


Slipping through my Fingers

by Trashness



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: A Hint Of Rimming, Canon Compliant, Childhood Friends, Fancy Balls, Felix is just very overwhelmed by not subtle flirting, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Jealousy, Light Angst, Like just a LITTLE bit, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Rimming, Sylvain is a big dummy, Sylvain realises Felix is a hot meal ticket to other people as well, The ladys who brunch, happy endings, silly conversations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:29:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 33,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25059286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trashness/pseuds/Trashness
Summary: Felix and Sylvain have danced around each other for years. Felix seems resigned that he will always just be Sylvain's friend, but Sylvain wants to push for something more. Sylvain will get around to making his feelings known soon. Eventually. Probably. He has some kind of 10 year plan and he really cannot rush this.He doesn't notice that while he is taking his time, Felix is starting to have a line of interested parties a mile long. Sylvain had always assumed that Felix would be available to him.... so what happens when he suddenly isn't?
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Petra Macneary, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier, My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 22
Kudos: 175





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello this all came about because I kept thinking about their first kiss and it haunted me for months.  
> Updates will be quick cuz it is finished. I just have to beta.

Sylvain and Felix-

Sylvain and Felix….

Sylvain…. and …. Felix….

Sylvain and Felix have an odd relationship. If you ask any of the other students at Garreg Mach what their particular relationship is, most will throw up their hands in a gesture of frustration. A few might hesitantly answer “…. Friends?”, while others will give a deep sigh that roughly translates to “There’s a _lot_ to unpack there”. 

Despite their frequent arguments across courtyards and dining halls, threats of violence snarled on the training grounds, and an extreme willingness to complain about each other to anyone who will listen… Sylvain and Felix constantly orbit around one another like two moons pulled into each other’s gravity. Wherever one is, the other is sure to be close by. They have danced around each other like this for years. 

Felix, Ingrid, Sylvain, Dimitri (and by extension, Dedue) had all entered Garreg Mach at the same time, unfortunately for their teachers and classmates. While this made perfect sense for Felix, Dimitri and Ingrid, who were all the same age, Sylvain was almost a full three years older. Unlike some of the other students who had to wait a few years to enrol due to financial or personal reasons, Sylvain was in a perfectly fine position to enrol at any time. This had lead to a few nosy students wondering why he had waited.

“It was my father’s idea.” He would reply to the few who asked. “He thought it would benefit Farghus’ future if the children of the most prominent houses stayed close friends. And he believes us going to school together will help that.” He would laugh. “Obviously he’s never had to go with Ingrid to an 8am class before she’s had breakfast.”

In truth it had been Sylvain’s own idea. It was easy to convince his father to wait for the same reasons he gave to these students. But those were not _his_ reasons for waiting.

Of course he had wanted to see Dimitri and Ingrid again. He had very fond memories of playing with them in snowy meadows, cutting holes in iced over rivers to fish, and picking wild berries in the humid summer air, but his fondest memories were always spent… with Felix. Felix was the youngest of their cohort, so Sylvain knew he would have to wait some time, and concoct a good enough reason for his father, if he wanted to attend school with Felix at his side.

The wait had been worth it, or at least that had been his immediate reaction upon seeing Felix again for the first time in years. The excitement and flutter of a childhood crush immediately settled into something heavier and solid in his gut at the sight of his friend across the courtyard. It had been difficult to hide his shock. Small Felix with the chubby cheeks and bright eyes was now taller and sharper. His waist was slim, accentuated by his tailored uniform vest, and his long, dark hair fluttered gently around his piercing eyes. He was beautiful, graceful… extremely kissable.

Sylvain would quickly learn that this Felix not only looked different, but he would behave differently as well. This Felix no longer clung to his hands and begged for all of his attention like when they were kids. He would not slip flowers into Sylvain’s crimson locks or drag him to some new and secret part of the estate he had just discovered. This Felix kept his distance. He was quick to walk away if Sylvain did anything he found distasteful, and even quicker to shout obscenities at him. Sylvain tried to press all of Felix’s buttons with the hope that he might press back. _Any_ sort of attention from Felix was a victory. Even if it was just a scolding. 

And yet, despite feeling like a failure, any outsider could clearly see that Felix had a high tolerance for Sylvain’s antics. Felix’s true feelings and motivations remain a mystery to most people, but it’s obvious in how frequently he is at Sylvain’s side, how he doesn’t scowl at his presence, or let his sharp tongue cut him down when he becomes irritating…. that Sylvain is Felix’s favourite of his old friends. And Sylvain should be grateful for that. If Felix did not have such a softness for him, he would likely be dead by now, with how frequently he likes to push the younger boy past his tipping point. 

On the first day of school, Felix had been just as nervous. His hands had shaken on the carriage ride over, and his knees had wobbled as he took his first few steps on the cobblestone path into Garreg Mach. He knew facing Dimitri, Dedue, and Ingrid would be hard. He knew that his prickly nature would make it difficult to make friends. He knew those were more pressing issues, but it was hard to panic about those things when he was too busy panicking about seeing Sylvain. 

He had loved and been enamoured with Sylvain since he was a child. At 8 years old his crush was embarrassingly apparent to anyone who cared to actually look. He would always reach for the older boy’s hand, or squirm his way into his lap, using his small size to his advantage. Felix winces at the memory. 

A lot of things have changed. A lot of things are different now. Felix is different now. His carefree nature is gone and he keeps his emotions locked tight, but his desire to have all of Sylvain’s attention has not wavered in almost a decade.

Felix had spied Sylvain across the courtyard, standing tall and strong. He was much more of a man than he had remembered. Broad shouldered, strong forearms, and a confident lilt to his lips as he smirked. He was devastatingly handsome.

“Fuck.” Felix hissed. This would be a rough year.

…

Six months at the monastery and Felix has buried any hope of something _more_ between himself and Sylvain firmly six feet underground. Sylvain has made his interest in women alarmingly clear and his reputation as a flirt and someone who sleeps around sticks to him like a shadow. Felix wants no part in it. 

It is early and the two boys are enjoying a rare, quiet breakfast together. The sun’s rays are still weak and the only noise in the dining hall is the murmur of staff back in the kitchen and the clinking of dishes. Felix lazily draws his spoon through his porridge.

“Are you going to join me in training today?”

“Can’t.” Sylvain mumbles around a bite full of toast. Crumbs and jam stick to the corners of his mouth. 

“The professor has signed me up for additional reason lessons.” He swallows. “I thought you would be coming too.”

“She hasn’t told me anything about it.” Felix shakes his head. The two had been enrolled in extra reason classes together. Additional to the rudimentary magic classes everyone received, but not as heavy as the classes Anette and Mercedes attended. 

“Maybe it’ll be a private lesson then?” Felix offers.

“Ugh, I don’t need more lessons. Aren’t my sessions with you enough?” Sylvain pouts and leans forward on the table, resting his head on his arms.

“Why is she so hard on me?”

“Because you’re good.” Felix answers matter-of-factly. “She sees a lot of potential in you.”

“But I’m not better than you!”

“Yes you are.” Felix shoots Sylvain a glare. “Stop talking down on yourself. It’s annoying.”

Despite Felix’s sharp tone, Sylvain rolls his head to the side with a shy smile. He speaks softly.

“You think I’m better at it than you?” 

“I think you could be better than Annette if you actually put some time in.” A narrowing of Felix’s eyes betrays that he is very close to smiling. Sylvain does not miss it. He hums contently and basks in the praise for a warm minute. He idly draws his index finger over the table, tracing the grain of the wood.

“Pick me up after my lesson.” He smiles from beneath his russet coloured lashes. “I’ll take you into town for dinner.”

“What’s the occasion?” Felix asks dryly. 

“I want to. C’mon,” Sylvain lifts himself up onto his elbows and leans across the table. “Dinner. Dancing? The moonlight.” He sighs wistfully. “I’ll sneak you a drink if you ask nicely.”

He winks. Felix’s eyes dart to the side as his resolve begins to crumble. He chews his bottom lip. 

“Just us two? No boar? No Ingrid?” He asks hopefully.

“Those killjoys?” Sylvain waves the very idea away with the back of his hand. “Just you and me.” 

As the weight of those words hangs in the air, Sylvain begins to panic. 

“And whatever fine ladies we manage to pick up along the way.” He smirks.

Felix drops his spoon into his empty bowl with a clang and stands.

“Not interested.” His chair scrapes along the floor.

“Wait, wait, Felix-“ Sylvain reaches across the table, but his hands just miss Felix’s. He turns on his heel and marches out of the dining hall without another word.

“Shit.” Sylvain hisses. He know’s he’s completely responsible for Felix’s rejection. He had to be a coward and open his big mouth. Again. 

“Ah, just how I like my morning coffee.” A feminine voice lilts musically behind him. “With a side of male pain.”

Sylvain turns in his chair to glare at Dorothea sneering down at him. 

“Ah Dorothea! I should have known you were close by with how the air suddenly dropped 10 degrees. You look lovely this morning. Did you drain yet another boy of his youth last night?”

Dorothea lets Sylvain’s quips roll off of her with a toss of her hair. She smiles and leans of the table.

“Honestly Sylvain, why must you make things harder for yourself? Do you intentionally ruin your life or is it just a gift?”

“It’s too early for this.” Sylvain stands and gathers up his dishes. He needs to clear his head. If he’s lucky he’ll be able to sneak a ride into his morning on his favourite gelding. If Ferdinand hasn’t taken him out already.

“We still on for brunch?” Dorothea calls after him. He gives a little wave of confirmation.

...

Felix arrives at the training grounds in a sour mood. He stalks over to the wooden training swords, barely looking at Leonie when he nudges her.

“You wanna go a round?”

Leonie rolls her eyes, but chuckles.

“Yeah sure.”

They start off fairly lightly. Mostly just warming up and moving through the motions in the chilly morning air. Leonie advances, then defends. Advance, defend, advance, defend. They move over the footwork that each of them has been advised to practice. Most sword fighters would find it challenging to attack against Leonie’s lance. It’s longer than a sword and can keep Felix out of his lethal range, but Felix has plenty of practice going up against lance users. They are the opponent he is most comfortable with facing, due to Dimitri, Ingrid and Sylvain all becoming his main sparring partners.

With a bit of warmth in their joints, Leonie and Felix begin to pick up the pace. They transition easily into a more competitive match.

Ashe watches from the sidelines. He had been discussing different kinds of bow strings with Leonie before Felix had stolen her away. He sits on a bench and watches with interest. He admires how comfortable Leonie and Felix both look with their chosen weapons. He still feels so clumsy with his bow. A familiar presence joins him on the bench. 

“Oh, good morning, Haylan.” Ashe welcomes him with a smile. Haylan is a knight’s son with aspirations of following in his father’s footsteps. He is in the Blue Lions house, but not in the elite class that Ashe had managed to squeak into with Lonato’s recommendation. His family are commoners, but he has wide eyed dreams of being a noble knight and performing heroic deeds to help the people in the villages he grew up in. He and Ashe have become good enough friends that they will frequently exchange books or have lunch together. Ashe still feels like an outsider at times, in his class with the kingdom Prince and the heirs to the Gautier and Fraldarius houses. Even Annette and Mercedes were of a minor noble standing, but friends like Haylan and Dedue have kept him from feeling completely overwhelmed.

“That’s Felix Fraldarius, right?” Haylan nods over at the dark haired boy pirouetting gracefully around Leonie with his sword.

“Oh yeah. You haven’t met?”

“No, no.” Haylan shakes his head. “I only ever see him in here and I don’t want to interrupt.”

Haylan’s green eyes follow Felix’s form, practically dancing with Leonie across the sand. Their weapons clack together in a fast rhythm.

“He’s very good.” He breathes with a sense of awe.

“One of the best with a sword.” Ashe casts a sideways glance at his friend. “That’s your specialty, right?”

“Yeah, but I don’t look anything like him.” Haylan blusters and shakes his head.

Ashe hops onto his feet with a bright smile.

“I’ll introduce you!”

“What?” Haylan’s content smile collapses. “No, No-“

But Ashe has grabbed his hand and is forcibly pulling him off the bench. The small boy is surprisingly strong when he really digs his heels in. 

“C’mon, it’ll be fine.”

Haylan stumbles as he is dragged across the sand, into the range of Felix and Leonie. 

“Felix! You got a minute?” Ashe calls out. Felix abruptly halts his strike with his sword and looks over his shoulder. Leonie hits him in the gut. Not hard, but enough that he makes a little “oof” noise and glares over at her.

“Sorry.” She grins. She is not sorry at all. Felix rubs his stomach and turns his attention back to Ashe. 

“Felix, this is my friend Haylan. I wanted to introduce you.” Ashe presents his friend like a bull being appraised. Felix gives him a quick look over, silently taking him in.

Haylan is tall with wide shoulders and hips. He looks sturdy, like it would be very difficult to bring him down in a grappling match. He has large hands, a square jaw, and warm green eyes. A few freckles dust over the bridge of his nose and the back of his forearms. His hair is neatly clipped around his ears and neck, but longer and tousled on top. Its bright red colour compliments his green eyes. 

Haylan gives a timid wave.

“Haylan is a commoner like Leonie and I. He was admiring your skills with your sword.”

Haylan flushes, but does the polite thing and extends his hand. 

“Uhh…” He swallows. “Haylan, Sir Fraldarius. I’m training to be a sword master too. It’s an honour to meet you.”

Felix does not shake his hand. Instead he crosses his arms over his chest and sweeps his eyes over Haylan once more. He smiles.

“You don’t have to ‘sir’ me.” He tilts his head to the side. “You any good?”

“No!” Haylan rushes to answer. Felix rolls his eyes and looks to Leonie for clarification.

She sighs and shifts her weight.

“With a sword?” She hums. “Probably stronger than Ashe, but would struggle against Claude.”

Haylan’s eyebrows crinkle together in confusion. 

“Isn’t Claude an archer? That doesn’t make me feel very good about myself.” He mumbles.

“That’s not a level to be ashamed of.” Felix hums. He turns and walks towards the rack of training weapons. 

“Claude is strong, fast, and cunning. The Golden Deer love to be unpredictable.” Felix smirks over at Leonie who pokes her tongue out at him. He grabs a training sword off of the rack and tosses it in Haylan’s direction.

“Let’s see what you’ve got.”

…

Felix spars with Haylan most of the morning, giving various tips and advice along the way. They start slow, walking over their footwork, and so Felix has a chance to assess what level the older boy is at. He then begins to move faster. Hit a bit harder. Push Haylan to attack and defend, and hopes that his opponent will try his best to hit him back. 

Felix has always behaved differently with people outside of the Farghus noble circle. He is less bristly, nicer even, which is obvious in how he lets little Lysithea and Annette boss him around. The stiffness he always carries in his shoulders and jaw dissipates. He speaks softer and smiles more when he thinks no one is looking. 

“Your stance is terrible.” Felix shakes his head. Haylan arches an eyebrow and lowers his sword.

“Here.” Felix walks around to stand behind him and places his hands on his hips. He is very close.

“You’re a pretty big guy. You should be able to overpower me easily, but your stance is keeping you off balance.” To punctuate this, Felix pushes and pulls at Haylan’s hips. His whole body sways. 

“I shouldn’t be able to move you at all. Here,” He kicks at Haylan’s feet, knocking them until he is standing with his feet a shoulder’s width apart. 

“Keep your knees bent. I’m not tall. You don’t have to stay all the way up there.”

Haylan does as he’s told. 

“Good. Now…” Felix presses closer. Haylan can feel his hips press against his back and it makes it almost impossible to focus. He almost drops his sword. Felix attempts to pull Haylan’s hips closer, but he does not budge.

“Good! See how much more stable you are now? I won’t be able to trip you up. And your strikes will hit harder.”

Felix steps away and Haylan breathes a sigh of relief. But his back still feels warm.

“Let’s try again!” Felix raises his sword and charges. 

…

They spar until noon, when Haylan has collapsed exhausted onto the sand. Felix sits next to him, softly panting. 

“You wanna go again?” Felix smirks down at the larger man.

“I need to eat lunch and then I have class.” Haylan gasps. His forehead shines with sweat and he’s ditched his uniform jacket. His shirt is mostly unbuttoned and rumpled. Felix looks completely unbothered, but for a few extra strands of hair that have fallen out of his bun. 

“Yeah I should probably eat something as well.” He frowns. “And shower.”

Haylan’s breathing begins to slow as he closes his eyes and tries to gather himself. The thudding pulse in his ears grows less intense. 

“You know, you’re not bad.” Felix stretches out his legs. “If you wanted to train tomorrow I’d be fine to join you.”

“Aren’t I slowing you down?” Haylan laughs. His eyes are still closed. 

“No.” Felix sighs. His muscles are pleasantly warm and tired. He enjoys the feeling. “Besides I’m enjoying going up against another swordsman. I need the practice.”

Haylan cracks open an eye and smiles up at Felix fondly. He doesn’t answer for a long time. Felix squirms under his gaze.

“Ok.” He finally sighs. “I’ll be here tomorrow.”

…

Felix oils his training sword before heading for the dining hall. It’s quite full, and only growing fuller by the minute as students and staff file in between classes. He grabs the chef’s special then takes a seat at the end of a table, next to Lysithea and Annette. They are deep in conversation about some magic homework that they have been assigned. Annette’s text book is open and Lysithea leans across the table to point at several diagrams.

“No, you’re forgetting the third circle. See?” 

“Oh! But I thought that was only for that spell?” Annette takes a bite of her fruit cake.

“No, no. You can apply it to multiple spells for an enhanced effect.” Lysithea leans back and drags her fork over a dollop of cream sit perched on her cake. Felix wonders if this is her dessert, or if this is will be all she eats for lunch. 

“Felix, have you covered concentric circles and runes in your magic lessons yet?” Annette asks. 

“A little. We’re still just learning rudimentary spells and the basics of getting them down. Not how to specialise them yet.”

“Well I think it’s great that you and Sylvain are pursuing it. I wish I had a reason partner in my house.” Lysithea sighs. 

“Doesn’t Lorenz learn reason with you? And Marianne?” Felix smirks.

“Ugh don’t get me _started.”_ Lysithea rolls her eyes. “Lorenz is always trying to protect me from using the really powerful spells because he think I can’t handle it. Even though I’ve exceeded Manuela in many areas! And Marianne is so timid that she’ll never actually push herself to do her best.” She pouts. 

“That’s really sad. Maybe I should have Mercy talk to her?” Annette offers.

“She’s welcome to try!”

Felix lets Annette and Lysithea continue to talk about the best ways to improve their classmates skills and confidence. They talk about drills and exercises that helped them when they were young, before the conversation gradually turns to fruit tarts and the best fruits to decorate a meringue. Felix likes their chatter. He admires people who are so passionate about improving their craft, whether that be spell casting, sword fighting, or cake baking. While Felix runs over drills and footwork patterns into the late hours of the night, Lysithea and Annette are holed up in the library, drafting spell circles and bottling potions. 

“Ugh, why is your shirt damp?” Annette recoils as her hand brushes Felix’s upper arm.

“I was training.”

“So have you showered?” 

“Not yet.” Felix shakes his head.

“So it’s SWEAT?” Annette looks scandalised. She leans closer and takes a cautionary sniff. Her nose wrinkles.

“You smell. Go shower, smelly boy.” Annette begins to push him off of the bench.

“Yeah, stinky man.” Lysithea grins over her cake. 

“I was gonna go-“

“No, go now! You’ve finished eating anyway.” Annette shoves Felix’s empty bowl into his arms. He stumbles off of the bench. 

“Get going sweaty rat boy.” 

“Wet garbage child.”

“Skinny swamp cat.” 

“Fishy stank hobo.” Lysithea and Annette taunt Felix in-between bouts of giggles. Felix rolls his eyes.

“Alright, alright. I’m going.” 

The two girls continue to titter as he walks away. They watch his back until it disappears out the side doors. Lysithea looks away first. She leans forward on her elbows and smirk at her friend.

“You think he’s cute, don’t you?”

“SH-!” Annette blushes up to her ears. “Shut up!”

…

Felix stops by his dorm to pick up his toiletries before heading for the boy’s bath. One of the down sides of Garreg Mach are the communal baths and toilets. Even the noble dorm rooms did not get their own bathroom. Thankfully, they are almost always empty during the middle of the day. Felix skips over the showers and heads towards the baths. Baths take longer, but they also offer more privacy, as each bath is surrounded by its own walls and a door. Sometimes even Felix wants to relax and take his time with private moments. You do not get a lot of them in a boarding school. 

Felix runs the bath and pulls off his uniform. He places it on the offered bench and begins to take several bottles out of his toiletry bag. Nothing fancy. Just shampoo, some soap and some oil for the water and his hair. He likes to keep it simple, compared to some of the noble boys. Ferdinand practically has an entire apothecary in his bag.

He unties his hair and slips into the bath. It’s warm and immediately makes his aching limbs feel better. Maybe he had overdone it that morning after all. He adds a few drops of oil to the water and closes his eyes. A sweet lavender scented steam surrounds him. He tips his head back. The ends of his long hair flutter around his neck like inky tendrils. As he stays still, the surface of the water turns completely smooth, almost like glass. For once everything is quiet. He wonders if he could fall asleep like this. 

Soft footfalls rouse him from his dosing. He expects them to stop around the showers, but they continue on to the baths. There’s a knock at Felix’s door.

“Occupied.” His low voice echoes off the tile. He sinks deeper into the water.

There’s the sound of a door unlatching and Felix’s eyes burst open. He scrambles to cover himself when the intruder stumbles in. Sylvain looks down with a satisfied grin.

“What are you doing!?” Felix hisses. He sinks deeper into the bath, as if the transparent water will help hide him. His hair spreads out on the surface around him. 

“I said I’d take you to dinner.” Sylvain answers like it’s obvious. Felix scoffs. 

“I want no part in it.”

“C’mon, Felix-“

“No.”

“I’m buying.”

“Obviously.” Felix huffs. His breath causes ripples along the water. “I don’t just want to sit there by myself while you find some…. Some….”

“Company?” 

“Tramp!” 

Sylvain sighs. He sits on the edge of the bath. Felix tries to pull his legs closer, to hide his more vulnerable…parts. 

“I won’t. I was just kidding this morning.”

“I’m being serious.”

“So am I.”

Felix’s sharp eyes lift to stare into Sylvain’s. It’s rare that Sylvain is serious about anything. He searches his gaze for any indication that he might be lying. 

“Look,” Sylvain tries again. “It’ll just be the two of us. I promise.”

“You _promise?_ ” Felix leans into the word like when they were kids. 

“I promise.” Sylvain nods. 

Felix has to admit, he is extremely tempted. An evening out alone with Sylvain is a rare treat. And the way he had asked… he could almost pretend it was a date. Just the novelty of that is making his resolve weaken. He blows bubbles into the water as he thinks. 

“Fine.” 

“Alright.” Sylvain beams. “Be ready in an hour. I’ll meet you at the dorms.”

“Isn’t that a bit early for dinner?”

“We have to _savour_ the day, Felix! There’s plenty to see on the way to dinner.” Sylvain saunters towards the door, then seems to remember something. He turns over his shoulder. 

“You should wear your hair down. It looks pretty.”

“Get out!” Felix barks, before he completely submerges himself below the water in retaliation. He hopes Sylvain cannot see the blush that is creeping up his cheeks.

…

Felix shuffles to his dorm, still slightly damp, and quickly shucks off his uniform to try and find something casual to wear. He stares into his closet with dismay. There is nothing particularly eye-catching or fancy among his garments. He wears a uniform every day, and when he’s not at school, he’s running to the market to pick up another sword or helping Annette carry a load of dusty books. He is not prepared for “Night on the town with my very fancy childhood crush.”. He pushes any self conscious thoughts away and reaches for the first two things that are clean. A white, loose fitting tunic with a deep neck and voluminous sleeves, which he tucks into his pair of black riding pants. The pants sit high on his waist, making his legs look long and slender. 

He runs a brush through his towel dried hair and ties it into a loose braid. He won’t give Sylvain the satisfaction of wearing it completely down… but he also does not want to put it back up in a bun. Just because he feels like it. For some reason. 

He steps out into the hallway where Sylvain is leaning on the opposite wall, waiting for him. He’s dressed in similar riding pants, that draw Felix’s eyes to how strong his thighs look. He’s still wearing what could be his uniform shirt, but he’s ditched the Garreg Mach jacket for a black, brushed leather one, with red, silk lining. Red cording traces the collar and seams up his chest. It looks expensive, but Sylvain wears it like he could clean the stables in it. 

“Ready to go?” He smiles.

Felix hums in response and walks past him. Sylvain shuffles to catch up to his side. 

It’s an easy walk into town, and the day is still bright. There’s a light breeze and the sun feels good on their skin. Sylvain talks about his private magic lesson, and what the professor wants him to focus on. Felix mentions his potential new training partner. 

“Oh he uses swords?” Sylvain asks. He walks with his hands behind his head.

Felix nods.

“That’s nice. The only chance you get to practice with another swordsman is when you get to spar with the professor.”

“Which isn’t often enough.” Felix pouts. Sylvain chuckles and bumps their shoulders together. 

As they enter town they file through several rows of shops, market stands, and carts full of goods. Felix pulls Sylvain into his favourite blacksmith shop to admire the different swords on display and explain the virtues of each style. Sylvain happily listens. It’s nice to hear Felix talking about something he enjoys.

“So why don’t you buy one?”

“I have one one order now.” He frowns. “But my father has reduced my allowance. He says I’ll just blow it all on swords and won’t buy any school books.”

“He’s not wrong.” Sylvain chuckles.

“I know, but shouldn’t it be my choice whether I end up broke or not?” Felix laughs. Sylvain visibly brightens at the sound. He smiles wider. He takes Felix’s hand.

“C’mon, I want to take you somewhere.”

“Alright.” Felix lets himself be pulled out of the shop. His hand feels nice in Sylvain’s. Warm pulses shoot up his arm from the contact.

Sylvain takes them to a market tent, encased in walls of velvet. They have to step through a beaded curtain to enter the heart of the shop. The walls are lined with racks of fine clothing. Gilded tunics. Embroidered riding coats. Fine linen dresses. 

“I buy a lot of stuff here.” Sylvain explains. It definitely feels his style. He takes a navy blue doublet off of a hanger. It’s velvet, with silver buttons and embroidery that works up and down the sleeves. 

“I saw this and thought it would suit you.” He pushes it towards Felix.

“Sylvain-“

“Just try it. Try it on.” He pushes it harder. Felix grumbles, but takes it. He slips it over his white tunic, but does not fasten the buttons, so it sits on his body like more of a jacket. Sylvain is right. The deep blue looks striking against Felix’s fair skin and dark hair. The extended shoulders help to broaden his narrow frame, and the tailoring at the waist highlights Felix’s slim middle. Sylvain wants to put his hands around him. He wonders if his fingers could touch.

“You look g-great.” He stutters. He so rarely gets to see Felix out of his uniform, much less in a garment fitting of his noble title. 

Felix hums. He moves over to look at himself in a mirror. He tugs on the hem. 

“It’s quite tight. I can’t really move in it.”

“You’ll break it in. Besides, you wouldn’t be fighting or training in something like this” Sylvain steps beside him and places a hand on his shoulder. He meets Felix’s eyes in his reflection.

“I like the colour.’ Felix admits.

“I knew you would.”

“Where would I even wear it?”

“To dinner! With me. Or your father. Or anyone really. You’re allowed to have nice things, Felix.” Sylvain lets his hand wander and he starts fidgeting with the strands of Felix’s braid. Felix tuts. Something tickles his wrist and he looks down. A price tag dangles out of the sleeve. He gasps and immediately tries to shuck off the garment.

“I can’t afford this.” He whispers. Sylvain’s hand sits firmly on his shoulder, not letting him take it off completely just yet.

“It’s fine. I was going to buy it for you.”

“What?” Felix hisses. He spins under Sylvain’s hold and stares at him with wide eyes. He throws off the doublet and stalks back over to the rack to hang it up.

“No. You can’t do that. I won’t let you.” He shakes his head. Sylvain laughs and jogs over.

“It’s a gift!”

“I refuse.” 

Felix takes his hand and yanks him out of the tent. Sylvain makes a show of resisting, but eventually wraps his fingers around Felix’s and springs next to him. He leans his head on top of his friend’s. 

“I just wanted to be nice.”

“You’re buying me dinner. That’s already nice.” Felix sighs. His palms begin to sweat. Sylvain does not mind. 

The sun is now low on the horizon and the clouds begin to turn pink. The market stalls cast long shadows and the air smells sweet with wood smoke. Sylvain wheels them into the local tavern, which is just starting to fill up with its evening crowd. The boys take up a table in the corner and Sylvain heads to the counter to order for them.

“Wait, I haven’t seen the menu.” Felix tries to catch him. 

“It’s fine. I know what you like.” Sylvain brushes him off. When his back is turned away, Felix smiles shyly to himself and fidgets with his hair. His stomach flutters. 

Sylvain returns with two large steins of ale.

“What’d you get me?” Felix asks.

“Don’t you want to be surprised?”

“Ugh, fine.”

Felix sips his drink and watches as more people pile into the tavern. A crowd begins to gather at the front as a local band begins to tune their instruments. They strike up a jaunty tune. Sylvain laughs and claps to the beat. Several children link arms and swing around one another on the dance floor.

Their food arrives quickly, balanced on the hip of one of the barmaids. Her apron is stained with grease and vegetable juices, but her pale blue dress is remarkably clean. In front of Sylvain she places a plate of meat and potatoes, covered in a rich berry sauce. She then sets a bowl of stew in front of Felix. It smells spicy and the meat resembles some local game. Felix takes a small taste. 

His eyes light up. It’s rich and earthy, with a spice that leaves his tongue tingling. He guesses that the meat is a mixture of quail and rabbit. Sylvain looks on with a cocky smile.

“It’s good, right?”

Felix smiles around his mouthful and nods. Sylvain leans back in his chair feeling accomplished. He watches Felix eat for a moment before diving into his meal. He feels warm and suddenly very tired. Even with the rambunctious music in full swing now, he leans on the wall next to him and thinks he could fall asleep like this.

Felix watches the people on the dance floor twirl around one another. Lovers and friends alike link arms and laugh along to the music. An old woman taps her foot in the corner as her grandchild does an unbalanced little jig in front of her. Felix smiles as the toddler stumbles and falls on his bottom, only to clamber back to his feet to bounce and try again. Sylvain follows his line of sight with interest.

“Do you want to dance?”

“No!” Felix replies immediately. “Absolutely not.”

“Are you sure? It could be fun. I’m pretty good at it.” He flashes a sharp grin.

“No way. I’m not letting you toss me about in some writhing mass.” Felix frowns. Sylvain chuckles. Both of them have almost finished their meals. He searches the room for some inspiration on how he can prolong this night. Just a couple more hours. Let him be a little greedy. 

His eyes land on a dartboard across the room. With most people drinking or dancing to the band, it is currently available. Sylvain nods over to it.

“Wanna play a game?”

Felix looks over his shoulder to see the board. He scoffs.

“Do you know how to play?”

“I know the basic rules.”

“Are you any good?”

“I have no idea.” Sylvain answers honestly. He laughs and shakes his head. Felix nods.

“Alright, we can give it a go.”

They abandon their empty dishes and head across the room. Sylvain gathers the darts from the bar and a piece of chalk to write down their scores. He moves to hand them to Felix.

“Oh no, you first. I insist.” Felix crosses his arms and steps back. Sylvain swears under his breath and laughs.

“You can’t make fun of me.”

“I promise nothing.”

Sylvain stands behind the indicated line and takes one of the darts. He holds it in the way he has seen other players hold it, and closes one eye. In truth, he really has no idea what he’s doing, but he can at least do his best impression of what an experienced dart player might do. 

He throws his dart. It clatters against the side of the board, just knocking one of the numbers.

“Alright not great.”

“I’m just warming up.” Sylvain frowns. He aims his second dart. It flies and sticks firmly in the 1 point ring.

“I hit it!” He smiles. Felix looks unimpressed.

“It’s an improvement.”

With only one dart left, Sylvain really needs to make this one count. He lines it up in a similar way to his last shot, but trying to aim further to the left this time. He bites his tongue and lets his dart fly with all his strength.

Maybe too much strength.

He feels the electric charge of his crest suddenly firing off and the dart moves at lightning speed. It misses the board entirely and sticks into the wooden wall.

“Yikes!” Felix stares at the failed attempt. He turns to look at Sylvain. Sylvain looks just as shocked. His eyes are wide and his hand still hangs in the air.

“Whoops.” He whispers.

Felix’s laughter bubbles up, like a spring being unearthed. It comes forth as a small giggle, then erupts to life as as a full body laugh that makes him close his eyes and lean forward. Sylvain stares in awe. He’d make an ass of himself all the time if he’d known this would be his reward. 

“You’re such an idiot.” Felix tries to sigh, but his laughter still trembles through him. Sylvain beams. 

“I didn’t know that would happen.”

“Shut up. I can’t take you anywhere.” Felix walks to the board and collects the darts. He has to grip the one in the wall quite tightly to yank it out. He walks over to Sylvain and bumps him out of the way with his hip.

“Let’s see if I can do any better.”

His first dart sticks next to one of the numbers. No points, but he at least hits the board. His second dart gets him 20 points, which isn’t bad, but he admits he was aiming for the bullseye. His third dart lands on 8 points. It’s not great, but he’s got some points on the board.

“I feel like Ashe would be good at this.” 

“I bet Mercedes is secretly good at it. She feels like a girl who would have spent a few evenings hanging out in pubs.” Sylvain stands to collect the darts.

“Didn’t she grow up in a church?” Felix scoffs.

“It’s just a feeling I have.” Sylvain smirks. 

He takes his spot and prepares his next shot. He focuses intensely on the bullseye.

“Hey...” He licks his lips, thinking about his next words carefully. “After this, you wanna go for a walk with me?”

“A walk?” Felix looks confused. “We have to walk back to our dorms.”

“No not like that.” Sylvain stays focussed on the dart board. He lets his dart go and manages to score a measly five points.

“I mean there’s a public garden near here. I thought it would be nice to walk through there before we head back. If you want.” 

“Oh.” Felix’s reply is quiet. He’s taken aback by the offer. Something so quiet and... intimate is a change of pace for them. He’s had dinner with Sylvain before, but this offer feels different. This night feels different. Even if Sylvain does just mean it in a friendly way, there is something inherently romantic about walking through a garden at night. Felix’s heart stutters in his chest at the thought of Sylvain surrounded by moonlit flowers.

“Sure.”

“Yeah?” Sylvain turns his head with a bright grin.

“Yeah.” Felix nods. 

Sylvain lets his last shot fly with gusto. It hits the triple score ring. 60 points. He raises his hand in triumph. 

He runs over to the board with a skip in his step. He pulls out the darts and places them in Felix’s outstretched hand.

“Your darts, m’lord.” He gives a little bow.

“Stop being stupid.” Felix chides him, but the corner of his mouth pulls into a grin. 

Felix takes another mediocre turn, before it is Sylvain’s again. Neither of them are near 0 yet, so this is shaping up to be a long game. Sylvain tries a new stance when something warm touches his leg.

“Hey handsome, I thought you said you were busy tonight?” A feminine voice whispers in his ear. He jumps back, rubbing where her breath has brushed him. 

“Clara!” His voice squeaks. Clara is a young woman with mahogany hair that cascades down her back in thick waves. She’s tall for a woman, with wide hips and a large chest. 

Felix looks on venomously. It’s clear from her body language that she is familiar with Sylvain and not uncomfortable with invading his personal space. 

“So are you available tonight or not? You still owe me a drink you know.”

“Clara, sorry, but I...” Sylvain steps back and gestures at Felix.

“We were-“

“It’s fine. I was just going.” Felix stands. He sets the chalk onto the bar and attempts to move towards the exit. Sylvain catches him by the elbow.

“Felix! Hey, she’s just a friend. Weren’t we gonna keep hanging out?” Sylvain speaks quietly, quickly, desperately. 

Felix looks over at Clara. Her bright blue eyes bat at them in confusion. The sight of her causes Felix’s insecurities to rise like acid in his stomach. He can taste it in the back of his throat. The crushing feeling that he will never be what Sylvain wants, so why is he kidding himself? Why does he torture himself with hope on nights like this?

“It’s late.” He murmurs. “I have to get up early to train. I need to get back anyway.”

“Let me walk back with you.” Sylvain offers.

“No.” Felix wrenches his elbow out of his hold. “I’m fine. Don’t let me spoil your fun.” He marches towards the exit.

“Felix!”

But Felix vanishes into the night before Sylvain can catch him again.

...

The walk back to Garreg Mach is much harder. It is uphill and Felix refuses to let himself slow down for even a moment. He keeps up his brisk pace, not wanting to risk Sylvain catching up to him if he has decided to follow. He’s breathing heavily and his throat is starting to taste like metal. As he climbs, the air becomes colder and a brutal wind pushes against his chest. He has to exert himself more as his skin becomes numb. He always forgets that the altitude of Garreg Mach makes it so much colder than the local towns and farmland around it. His linen tunic is not much protection around the biting chill.

He crosses into the front entry with aching legs. The ground levels out and Felix starts to catch his breath. He concentrates on it, rather than the burning in his thighs. He walks with purpose past the gatekeeper and fishing pier. The sound of students in the dining hall carries on the wind. 

“Felix!” 

A voice calls about from above. Felix tries to ignore it. His dorm and the warmth of his bed is so close.

“Felix! Hey!” The voice continues, followed by the sound of heavy footfalls descending stone steps. Felix finally lifts his gaze to see Haylan running towards him. He grimaces, but forces his feet to stop. He holds his middle tightly to conserve whatever heat he has left. 

“Hey, I wanted to ask you something. When you…” Haylan’s voice drifts off as he comes close enough to see Felix properly in the dark. His eyes sweep over him with worry.

“You okay?”

“F-fine.” Felix tries to fight the chatter in his teeth. Haylan reaches out his hand to brush against his upper arm.

“You’re trembling.” His eyebrows knit together.

“I-I wasn’t prepared…”

“Here.” Haylan immediately shucks off his jacket and drapes it across Felix’s soldiers. It’s large and envelopes him like a blanket. Felix stares dumbly at the taller man. 

“Pre-warmed. That should help.” He smiles. 

“Don’t you need it?” Felix tries to protest, but his fingers are already digging at the lapels to wrap it tighter around himself.

“My dorm is close. I’ll just head back and get another.” Haylan reaches out to secure the high collar around Felix’s neck. 

“You looked like you were about to turn blue.”

Felix slips his arms into the sleeves. His shivering is slowing, leaving his body sore and exhausted.

“I promise I’ll return it tomorrow.”

“Do you want me to bring you some tea?” Haylan offers. Felix is now completely engulfed in the jacket, with it falling halfway down his thighs and drooping off his narrow shoulders. He resembles a ball of wool with only a small, white face poking out.

 _Cute._ Haylan smiles. 

“No, I have some in my room.” Felix chews his bottom lip. He knows that’s too curt. 

“But thank you …for the offer.” His gaze falls to the pavement. 

“It’s okay. I’ll let you go then.”

“Thanks.” Felix nods. “Again.”

He walks past Haylan.

“Oh, Felix!” A hand catches his elbow. He looks over his shoulder expectantly. Haylan quickly releases his grip.

“Uh…your hair looks nice tonight.” He breathes. They both wait a beat.

“I just wanted to tell you that.” He smiles. Felix stares. He’s at a loss for words. He's never been in this position before. He looks away in the hopes that Haylan will miss the blush that creeps onto his cheeks.

“Thank you.” He mutters. He pulls the jacket up to cover his chin and sets off for his room.

Just entering the dormitory hallway is a relief. The wind can’t reach him here and he starts to realise just how numb his limbs are. His frozen fingers fumble with his room key, but he finally manages to get it open. The inside of his room is at least 10 degrees warmer, but it still isn’t enough. He starts up his gas hotplate and sets a kettle of water on top of it. He waits impatiently for it to whistle. When it finally does, he pours the boiling water into a mug and stirs in a spoon of Almyran pine needles. He does not bother to strain it. He holds the steaming mug in his cold hands until feeling returns to them. He holds his face over the steam, hoping his nose might warm up just a bit.

But he’s still chilled. He slides into bed, underneath a pile of blankets he has brought from home, and begins to sip his tea. The warm liquid feels heavenly sliding down his throat. He leans back against his headboard and nestles deeper into the blankets. Feeling gradually returns to his core, limbs and face. His feet are still cold though, which is unfortunately common. He frowns when he drains the last of his tea. He wants to have more, but he does not want to leave his protective cocoon. He frowns harder.

It’s in the middle of this dilemma that there is a knock on his door. Felix sighs. He stares at his door like it has personally insulted him. The knocking starts again. 

“Alright!” He barks. He extricates himself from his warm sanctuary and pads over to the offensive sound. He opens the door with with a scowl.

Sylvain stands on the other side, pink cheeked and panting.

‘Felix!” He pants. Felix glares at him. 

“You just ran off, you didn’t give me a chance to explain-“

“You don’t need to explain anything.” He interrupts. 

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t going to ditch you. I really wasn’t. I promised you I wouldn’t.” Sylvain sounds sincere, worried even, that he’s possibly hurt Felix’s feelings. Felix winces. He _had_ run off very suddenly. Sylvain hadn’t _technically_ done anything wrong…Felix just couldn’t bear the thought of feeling like the second best option. 

“I know.” Felix casts his gaze down. He pushes the too-long sleeves of his jacket up so he can cross his arms. 

“Who’s is that?” Sylvain’s eyes suddenly snap to the foreign jacket. One obviously not belonging to Felix.

“It’s Haylan’s. I ran into him and he lent it to me.” Felix explains. He examines Sylvain’s face closely. A bold thrill rushes through him.

_Will he be jealous? Will he care at all that I’m wearing another man’s clothes?_

He snuggles into the high collar, trying to flaunt it. Sylvain’s face remains neutral.

“Oh!” He smiles. “Well that was nice of him.”

Felix frowns. This isn’t the reaction he wants. He sighs.

“Yes it was.”

“Anyway, we didn’t get to finish our night. Let me make it up to you tomorrow.” Sylvain continues his prepared train of thought. “Meet me for lunch. I’ll make those meat skewers you like if they're not on the menu.”

“Sylvain, I have plans.” Felix replies coldly. “I have to train. The Battle of the Eagle and Lion is coming up in a few days.” He moves his hand to grip the door knob and looks up to meet Sylvain’s eyes.

“I suggest you do the same.”

He shuts the door with a dull thud, leaving Sylvain cold and rejected in the hallway. He places his hands on his hips and stares at the floor. His body shivers, but he isn't sure it’s from the cold. He covers his face with his hands.

“Shit.” He whispers.

…

Felix meets Haylan at the training grounds the next morning. Haylan is waiting for him, leaning on the rack of training swords with his eyes closed.

“Hey.” Felix approaches.

“Hey,” Haylan opens his eyes at the familiar voice and smiles. Felix holds out his jacket.

“Thanks. I can wash it if you like.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine. It wasn’t exactly clean when I gave it to you.” Haylan laughs. “Did it help?”

“Yeah.” Felix nods. “Lots.”

“Good. I’m glad.”

“We should start.” Felix switches the topic and reaches for a training sword. “Show me if you learnt anything yesterday.”

“Yes, sir.” Halyan smirks. Felix frowns over his shoulder as he walks towards the open training area. Haylan laughs.

They warm up quickly then try to pick up where they left off the previous day. Felix moves a bit faster. Hits a bit harder. He might be working out some aggression, but Haylan manages to keep up. He tries to respond to all of Felix’s feedback and apply himself as best as he can. Felix goes for his ankle and Haylan blocks him.

“You’re getting better.” Felix huffs.

“I have a good teacher.” Haylan laughs. 

Felix spins and kneels to hit him in his side. Haylan moves to block, but is too slow. His weight shifts onto one foot and Felix spins his leg around to kick it out from under him. The larger man topples to the ground with a grunt and lands on his back. Felix scrambles to place a knee on his chest and holds the tip of his sword at his neck. He leans forward.

“Looks like I still have a lot to teach you.” He smirks. Strands of loose hair fall from his bun and brush against Haylan’s face. Haylan wrinkles his nose. He rises up on his elbows and presses his face close to Felix’s temple. He chuckles.

“You smell nice.”

Felix jumps off of him like he’s been burnt. He rubs his ear that still tickles from Haylan’s breath. He looks down at the larger man still lying on his back with a sleepy satisfied smile. Nothing about Haylan looks embarassed, which only causes Felix to feel more flustered. A blush creeps over his cheeks.

“We should continue.” He breathes. His eyes stay firmly trained on the sand.

They go for a few more rounds and thankfully Haylan does not come out with any other observations that flip Felix’s stomach around. They break to take a drink from their flasks and sit on the sand. Felix focuses on his breathing, trying to get his heart rate down before he has to leave for class. He looks over at Haylan and watches as he takes a sip from his flask. His eyes follow the line of his throat and the bob of his Adam’s apple when he swallows. 

“So,” He pulls his eyes away. “Are you ready for the Battle of the Eagle and Lion?” He tries to make conversation. Haylan perks up at the mention of their looming competition.

“Yeah!” He smiles. “I’m excited. It’ll be interesting seeing all the different houses competing. I am very curious who will come out on top.”

Felix hums in agreement.

“I know I’ll just be in a battalion, but I still want to work hard to keep up with everyone.” He looks at Felix. “I really hope I’m assigned to your battalion.”

“Oh.” Felix breathes.

“Ha!” A loud voice cackles from across the training ground. The boys’ heads whip up to see Ingrid leaning on a training lance. 

“Felix doesn’t get a battalion. He’s incapable of thinking of anyone but himself.” She smirks. FeIix glowers at her. He turns his attention back to Haylan and his expression softens.

“I’m not very good at giving orders. You’ll probably be under Dimitri or...” He thinks. “Sylvain.”

“That’s your red head friend right? The one that most girls stay away from?”

“Yes that’s him.” Felix confirms through gritted teeth. He sighs.

“He’s an idiot, but he’s probably our best strategist.” 

“Even if he’s very ...” Haylan pauses and smirks. “Single minded?”

Felix groans and falls back onto the sand. He crosses his arms behind his head.

“If he can stop thinking with his dick for five minutes he really is a gifted leader.” He spits.

Haylan laughs, trying to lighten the atmosphere. He senses some animosity from Felix when he mentions Sylvain, and does his best to distract him. 

“Who do you think I should watch out for on the battlefield? Who’s your biggest competition?”

“Oh,” Felix grins. “That’s a very short list.”

...

The Battle of Eagle and Lion arrives sooner than anyone would like. It feels different to any of their other mock bottles, and an anticipation electrifies the air. Soldiers fidget on their marks as they wait for the flag to drop and their leader’s orders to ring out around them. Haylan stands in a crowd of other foot soldiers, swordsman and lancers mostly, behind their battalion leader, Sylvain. He sits high on his mount above them, looking confident and grand. He twirls his lance with a bored ease. His armour glistens and his fiery hair practically glows in the sun’s golden rays. Haylan has to admit... he is captivating to look at. 

Felix walks over to him. He places a hand on Sylvain’s calf. His other wanders down to instinctively check his saddle’s girth. Is it on tight enough? Should he adjust it? Is Sylvain at risk of twisting around under his horse mid-battle?

“I can saddle my own horse, Felix.” Sylvain smiles down at him. Felix’s expression is serious and does not waver. 

“I’m just checking. You’re supposed to check after you mount and I know you don’t.”

“I did today.” Sylvain places his hand on top of Felix’s head. He brushes his hair back out of his face.”

“You’re supposed to pin this back.” He tuts.

“I’ll be fine. I know what I’m doing.”

“So do _I_.” Sylvain stresses. He speaks softly, so only Felix can hear him.

“Stay safe out there. Don’t do anything reckless.”

“Same to you.” Felix looks up to meet Sylvain’s eyes. “Good luck.”

“Good luck, Felix.”

The battle is challenging. Three houses on the battlefield causes a lot of confusion and stress. Each house primarily aims for one other house in the early stages, but eventually they all clash. Sylvain controls his horse with his thighs, as he gallops in front of his battalion, cutting down approaching enemies. Haylan performs well under his command. He helps the Blue Lions gain ground and pushes back against Ferdinand’s battalion. In the heat of battle, he catches sight of Felix cutting a swath through the enemy. He is alone, but manages to clean up almost a third of the field. Watching Felix in battle is an entirely different experience then watching him train. He is impossibly fast and agile. His sword efficiently cuts down anyone in his way. He takes out a line of mages, allowing Ashe and Annette to safely move through. 

Professor Byleth shouts orders from the front lines with Dimitri at her side. Her strategies seem promising, but Claude feels prepared for each of their tactics. Poor Ingrid does not stand a chance against his archers. Dedue has to quickly retreat when he spies Lysithea sprinting over the horizon. Felix tries his best to help his allies, but he finally meets his match when his sword clangs against Petra’s. He can’t land a single blow on her. She ducks and weaves around him, until he becomes so frustrated and distracted that he completely misses Dorothea just a few metres away. Dorothea blows a kiss to Sylvain, right before she launches a meteor in his direction. It lands with a ground shuddering crash and Sylvain is thrown from his horse. He scrambles through the dust and assault of arrows to secure another mount and rides towards his enemies. 

There are a number of close calls, but the Blue Lions eventually prevail. Dimitri pants on the battlefield, with Edelgard and Claude conceding their defeat in front of him. The verdict rings over Gronder Field and rapturous applause erupts. Annette and Mercedes run into each other’s arms. Dedue claps Ashe on the shoulder and Dorothea comforts Ingrid over in the loser’s tent. Felix collapses against Sylvain’s horse with relief. Sylvain laughs and pats his head. 

On the raised area of the field, next to the central ballista, the house leaders meet to congratulate each other on a well fought battle. Edelgard looks irritated, but manages to keep her composure. Claude wears his effortlessly cool persona like a well-worn coat. 

“You put up a hard fight, Teach. I really thought I had you for a few minutes there.” He shakes his head.

“It was close. You should all be proud of yourselves.” Byleth nods at the students.

“Well I say that this calls for a celebration. What if we have a grand feast at this end of this week? A big ball! I think we’ve earned it.” He winks at Byleth. Her expression doesn’t change, but she turns towards Dimitri.

“I think that’s a fine idea.” 

Dimitri needs little convincing. He beams.

“I think that’s a marvellous idea.”

“It would help promote friendly relations between our houses.” Claude exposes a hint of his true motivations. Edelgard taps her chin in thought. 

“I think it would be good for morale. I’m sure Dorothea and Petra will be excited.”

“That’s it then.” Claude claps his hands with finality.

Manuela announces the decision from across the field. The students clap and grab onto their friends with glee. Hilda squeals and thrusts her axe into the air. Dorothea throws up her hands as if this announcement is a personal triumph. Amongst all the frivolity, Haylan manages to push through the crowd and meet Felix.

“Hey, great job out there.” Felix gives him a tired smile. Haylan shakes his head.

“You’ve been holding back on me.” He laughs. “You’re really something else, Felix.”

...

Hours later, Felix is still miffed at how Petra had bested him on the field. It’s after dinner, but his obsessive nature won’t let him relax. He wanders over to the library. He sequesters himself off to a dark corner, and scans the book titles for something that might help him. He looks for a book specialising in Brighid fighting styles, particularly sword techniques. That must be how she had beaten him. She moved in a way so foreign to how he had been trained, like water flowing around a boulder in a river, effortless and adaptive. She even held her sword differently. Felix had never seen anything like it.

His fingers thumb over several Brighid related texts. They discuss history, food, clothing, political affiliations, a couple on battle strategy. He follows the shelf down to its edges, when he’s almost entered the fiction section, before he finds a book that suits his desires. He flicks through the pages and nods in satisfaction. 

“Bit late to be here.” Someone stands at his side. Felix flicks his gaze up to see Haylan smiling down at him. A large book is tucked under his arm, with a blue cover and silver embossed writing.

“That looks like one of Ashe’s” Felix nods at the book.

“Oh,” Haylan takes it out to hold in both of his hands. “He recommended it actually.”

“Odd time to be reading.” Felix goes back to flicking the pages of his own text. His eyes scan the diagrams of various foot patterns and weapons.

“It’s Friday night after a victory. Shouldn’t you be celebrating with some girls.” He asks dryly.

“Ah...” Haylan shifts his weight. He rubs the back of his neck and smiles sheepishly.

“I have... very limited interest in girls.” He chuckles nervously.

Felix snaps his book shut. He turns to Haylan with narrowed eyes. The meaning of those words are turned over in his head, and he gives Haylan one last appraising look. With a renewed kind of interest, he smiles.

“I was gonna get some tea from the dining hall.” He tucks his book under his arm. “Do you want to join me?”

Haylan grins. He relaxes his weight back onto his heels.

“Sure.”

...

Sunday mornings are precious times, when staff and students alike have no classes or school responsibilities to attend to. Sylvain stretches out on his chair under the dappled light of the gazebo. Mercedes and Dorothea sit at his table, nibbling on the spread of sweet cakes, crustless sandwiches, and pots of tea. Sunday brunch. The tradition had first started with just Mercedes and Sylvain, the oldest of the Blue Lions. They liked to meet up to commiserate about the things the monastery would not allow them to do, despite their adulthood. They also liked to complain and gossip about the younger students. It was a healthy release for them. Dorothea had snuck her way in, mostly for the gossip, but she also enjoys feeling like part of an exclusive club. 

She takes a sip of her tea and looks at Sylvain over the rim of her cup. 

“How are your reason classes going?”

“Ugh, which ones?” Sylvain laughs. He munches on a macaron. Dorothea and Mercedes both raise their eyebrows.

“The professor has increased my class load, so now I do my sessions with Felix, as well as private sessions.” He explains. Dorothea lets out a low whistle.

“She’s really trying to make something out of you, huh.”

“Wish she’d just let me wallow in my mediocrity.” Sylvain pouts.

“Never. I’m super excited you and Felix are taking more magic classes.” Mercedes cheerfully pours herself and Sylvain another cup of tea. “I don’t want to stress you guys out too much, but I honestly find it quite worrying that Annette and I are your only mages. Annette is so small, and I’m not exactly a fighter, so it’s a comfort to know that you and Felix will be aiding us on the front lines.”

She takes a cucumber sandwich.

“Especially if you’re on a horse. You’ll be able to run so much faster and farther than us.”

“I guess I never thought of it like that.” 

“You’d be able to take out Caspar before he can sprint across the field.” Dorothea chuckles. 

“God he’s such a little demon. I watched him just punch the _shit_ out of Ferdinand one day.” Sylvain laughs along with Dorothea.

Mercedes smiles and leans forward to take a piece of strawberry shortcake. Her long ponytail falls forward and the ends of her hair graze over the table.

“Ah! Mercedes!” Dorothea warns as a few tips fall into a dollop of whipped cream. 

“Aw,” Mercedes tuts. She wipes off the ends with her cloth napkin. “Sorry.”

“It’s ok. Long hair problems.” Dorothea shrugs.

“I’ve honestly been thinking of cutting it.” Mercedes sighs. Sylvain makes a wounded gasping noise, but she ignores him.

“It’s just so long and heavy. I think I’d be better on a battlefield if it was just completely out of my way.” She explains.

“Could you just wear it higher?” Dorothea offers. Mercedes takes out her loose ponytail and begins to gather a pile of hair on top of her head. 

“I wouldn’t really know how. None of the nuns really taught me complicated hair styles. A ponytail is the most I can manage.” She laughs. “I also think I would be too lazy to do it every morning.”

“Maybe I could ask Petra to teach you? She’s going to do my hair for the ball. Maybe she could do yours as well?” Dorothea takes another sip of her tea.

“Oh! That would be lovely!” Mercedes claps her hands together. “I don’t know if I’ll absorb anything she shows me, but she is welcome to try.”

“Speaking of the ball….” Dorothea turns her keen eyes towards Sylvain. She traces her index finger around the rim of her cup.

“Are you planning on asking _Felix_ to join you there?” She smirks. Sylvain slumps in his chair. He hates when the girls pry him about Felix.

“Ugh, _YES._ If you must know.”

“Have you asked him yet?”

“No, no, not yet.” He sighs and closes his eyes. “I’m still mulling it over. How I’m going to approach it. How I can convince him to go at all.”

“Well you’ll want to get a move on.” Dorothea pushes.

“The ball is in five days. As long as I ask him before the day of, it’ll be fine.” He shrugs. “What’s the rush?”

Dorothea and Mercedes share a nervous glance. Sylvain does not notice. He stretches out in the warm sunlight and smiles blissfully to himself. It’s Dorothea who breaks the silence.

“Aren’t you worried… he might not be… _available_?” She leans on the word, hoping Sylvain can understand her meaning.

He doesn’t.

Instead he blinks owlishly at her.

“Felix doesn’t have any plans outside of classes and training. I’m sure he won’t be busy.”

Dorothea sets her tea down with a huff and a clink. Mercedes chews her bottom lip. She turns to Sylvain with a sympathetic smile. 

“Sylvain… have you thought that maybe someone _else_ might ask Felix to the ball?” She offers.

Watching Sylvain’s expression is like watching a train very slowly leave a station. Wheels are turning, there is a lot of steam and screeching, but the machinery is only barely moving forwards. His mouth is a little slack as he tries to connect ideas together.

“My god! Sylvain!” Dorothea throws her hands up in frustration. She's tired of babying him.

“You are NOT the only one who likes Felix.” She leans forward and gestures wildly with her hands. “You’re not even the only _redhead_ who likes Felix!” Her voice breaks.

Mercedes looks down into her teacup.

“Annie told me she kinda has a thing for him.” Her pale eyes look up in a panic. “Don’t tell anyone I told you that!”

Sylvain continues to blink. His mouth wordlessly opens and closes. He tries to take in what his friends are saying, but it’s like he is being told that the sky is green. Or that horses have six legs. It sounds preposterous.

“What?!” He finally manages. “What are you talking about?! Wh- Who?” He stammers. “Who likes Felix?”

Dorothea collapses in her chair. She lets out a deep, wounded groan. She lets her hand fall onto her chest.

“I do.”

“WHAT?!” Sylvain squawks.

“I do, you idiot!” Dorothea hisses. She reaches across the table to sharply prod Sylvain with her index finger. 

“And the only reason I haven’t hit on him is because of some warped sense of loyalty I have to you!” She spits. Sylvain rubs his chest where he’s been painfully poked. His eyes narrow in confusion.

“But…whyyyyyy?” He whispers.

Dorothea rolls her eyes.

“He’s funny.” She shrugs.

“He is not funny. You are lying. You are an absolute liar Miss. Arnault.”

“He is! He makes me laugh!” Dorothea squawks. “He doesn’t play games. He is extremely straight forward to the point of being blunt, but honestly I find that kind of refreshing.”

Sylvain leans back and crosses his arms. He waves his hand, gesturing for Dorothea to continue her explanation. She composes herself and sighs. She doesn’t like exposing her feelings like this, but she knows she should to help her friend to the best of her abilities. 

“He treats everyone the same.” She states. “No matter if you’re noble or commoner. If anything, I think he is slightly nicer to commoners. He’s never been mean to me, well maybe a little, but I deserved it. He doesn’t judge me for my station.” She chews the inside of her cheek. Mercedes reaches out to give her a gentle squeeze on her thigh.

“Besides!” Dorothea erupts back to her electric self. “We all know that I am someone who wants to be taken care of, and there are _lots_ of others like me. If I was thinking _purely_ about that, Felix is a great catch.” She laughs. 

“He’s a Fraldarius! A _Fraldarius!”_ She throws her arms out wide. “Gautier is fine. Blaiddyd is better, but you and Dimitri both have this stink of unresolved trauma around you. It’s honestly a real bummer. Felix manages not to have that.” She darkly chuckles. “And Sylvain you are _so_ obsessed with your crest, and seem to understand what a hot meal ticket it makes you, but you’re forgetting that Felix has a _major_ crest?!” Her eyes narrow.

“You have a _minor_ crest of Gautier. Big whoop. I can’t throw a rock in this place without hitting a minor crest.” She gestures around the courtyard. “But Felix has a _major_ crest of Fraldarius. That is exceedingly rare, even amongst nobles.” She leans forward conspiratorially. 

“Face it Sylvain, Felix is a great catch, even better than yourself… politically speaking.” She takes a bite of her sandwich.

“If you don’t make a move, someone else _will_.” She explains through a mouthful of bread. 

Sylvain feels ice cold. This whole time he had just been battling himself. He had never entertained the idea that he might have to battle other suitors. Sure, he had engaged in a number of flings, but Felix had always been… alone. No one had ever approached him about things like that. At least… not to Sylvain’s knowledge.

He looks across the courtyard with panicked eyes, and sees Felix sitting cross legged on the lawn. He flips through a book in his lap. Leonie leans against his side. Close. So close. Had they always been this touchy? She leans her head on his shoulder and looks down at the book. The two chat and point to various diagrams on the pages. 

As Sylvain watches them, Lysithea runs towards them from behind. She falls to her knees and wraps her arms around Felix’s shoulders. She appears to be holding a piece of cake. She tries to force it into Felix’s mouth. She and Leonie laugh as Felix struggles. Finally he concedes, and takes a few bites from her hand. Lysithea leans her head on top of his. The three of them stay like that for a long time, intertwined in the sunshine. 

For the first time, Sylvain is filled with the real fear that he could lose Felix.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a ball, but things are more tense and depressing than festive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the entire reason I wrote this whole fic!

Felix is in the training grounds when Haylan finds him. He’s by himself and is trying his best to mimic Petra’s footwork. His eyebrows are wrinkled together in concentration. Occasionally he looks down at his library book left open on the sand. He follows along with the diagrams and maps of traditional Brighid forms and patterns. His feet move along the sand like he is trying to memorise a complex dance. Haylan watches with great interest. His eyes trace along the smooth line of his spine, then down into his outstretched legs that come to a point at his big toe. He admires the strength in his chest and core, and how he holds himself upright as his toes barely graze the sand. He finally clears his throat.

Felix turns over his shoulder. The strands of hair framing his face swing with the sudden movement.

“Hey, I was looking for you.” He smiles. He relaxes and sinks his hands into his pockets. 

“I was hoping you could do me a favour?”

Felix forcefully tosses his training sword at Haylan. Haylan has to move quickly to snatch it before it collides with his face. He looks at Felix with wide eyes.

“Spar with me.” Felix smirks. “You can ask when we finish.” He moves to pick up a new training sword. 

“Wait…” Haylan steps back. A wide grin grows on his face. “If I win… will you agree to it? No questions asked?” He raises his eyebrows. Felix wears a bored expression.

“If you manage to win, I’ll _consider_ doing what you ask.”

“I guess that’s the best I can hope for.” Haylan chuckles. 

Felix rushes forwards, but Haylan is ready. His stance is low and strong, just like he had been taught, and does not budge as Felix crashes into him. He breathes and stays balanced as he begins to move forwards. Felix flits around him with dramatics and speed, but Haylan manages to block all of his hits. He forces all of his strength into his next attacks. Felix blocks them, but he visibly winces and his wrists shake. Haylan is stronger than him. Blocking his attacks _hurts_. He dodges the next few strikes. Haylan watches as he notices the pattern, until he can predict which way he will move. He attacks Felix’s left, and when he spins to the right to avoid the collision Haylan kicks out his foot.

Felix falls in slow motion. His face looks shocked as he crashes against the sand. Haylan moves with unexpected speed to push his end of his sword against the smaller man’s throat. Felix looks up with wide eyes. His chest rapidly rises and falls with his breathing. Haylan looks just as surprised above him. He stares down in disbelief, but there’s an elated smile breaking through his shock.

“You fought well.” Felix chuckles. “It’s good to see what you’re capable of when you’re really determined.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Don’t patronise me.” Felix lifts up his hand. Haylan takes it and pulls him up to his feet. He’s surprisingly light, and maybe tugs him up a bit harder than he should. Felix doesn’t seem to mind. He dusts off his back and legs.

“Now what did you want to ask me?” He asks as an afterthought.

“Oh yeah! Uh…” Haylan feels his confidence start to waver. He rubs the back of his neck and averts his eyes.

“Do you uh… I want…” 

Felix crosses his arms and fixes him with a bored expression.

“The ball! Will you go? With me?” Haylan rushes out. Felix blinks at him.

“Will you go to the ball with me?” He asks more coherently. He smiles nervously. 

Felix continues to blink at him. He is completely unprepared for this situation. He never imagined that anyone would ask him, let alone Haylan. Even if it was clear that there was something forming between them, Felix had never entertained the idea of a …. Date? Is that what this is?

“Are…” He tries to steady himself and licks his lips. “Are you asking me… as a… friend?” His voice is quiet.

“I mean I guess. A friend that I would want to dance with and kiss at the end of the night, sure.” Haylan laughs. Felix blushes at how brazenly honest he is.

And if Felix were as honest, he would admit that his thoughts briefly flicker to another redhead. A small part of him had hoped…. maybe not a date, but… something. Felix realises how pathetic that is. Why hope for the smallest something, when he had a tangible everything right here.

“Okay.” Felix smirks.

“Really?!” Haylan brings up his hands to hold the sides of his face. His jaw drops open. “You mean it?!”

“Yeah.” Felix smiles. Really smiles. His eyes crinkle at the corners. Haylan whoops and jumps into the air. He reminds Felix of one of his father’s faithful hunting dogs, energetic and craving praise. It’s cute.

“You won’t regret this.” Haylan beams. 

“I hope I don’t.” Felix chuckles.

“I gotta go. I’m on dishes duty tonight. I’m late as it is. I just really needed to ask you.” Haylan blathers. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“I’m sure of it.”

“Okay, okay, I really gotta go.” Haylan starts to jog on the spot. He leans forward. One of his hands reaches out to hold Felix’s shoulder and he brings his face close. His breath is warm on Felix’s jaw as he kisses his cheek. He pulls away with a smile.

“I’ll see you tomorrow!” He runs off with a wave. 

Felix waits for him to disappear out the door before he lets his entire body shudder. He slowly sits cross legged on the sand and brings up his hands to cover his red face. He can feel that he is smiling impossibly wide. His stomach flips wildly. He is happy.

…

It takes two entire days for Sylvain to summon the courage to ask Felix. He decides the time is finally right on a late walk back from their reason lesson. They stop by the dining hall to grab some hot meat buns, and eat as they walk back to their dorms. The air is brisk and crickets chirp in the bushes around them.

“You’ve progressed quite a lot.” Felix comments. “Those private lessons must be sinking into you.”

“I’ve gotta make _some_ effort. Otherwise I think the professor would schedule me for even _more_ classes.” Sylvain huffs through a mouth full of bun. Felix hums in agreement.

“You’re getting better too. I wouldn’t want to be hit by your thoron.” Sylvain chuckles.

“And you’re healing has gotten stronger, which is surprising.”

“I’ve been getting a lot more practice at that. Sparring with someone not as skilled as me lately means that…” Felix thinks about his words. “I try my best to pull my attacks, but sometimes-“

“You hit?”

“Square in his face.” Felix smiles. Sylvain laughs loudly. He’s been on the receiving end of those hits enough times to understand why they might require a healing spell. 

They round a corner and the dormitory building appears in the distance. The twinkling lights in the windows are a comforting sight. Sylvain can tell who is home and who is still out. It looks like Hubert, Annette and Lysithea are still out for the night, but everyone else is secure and warm in their rooms. As the building grows closer, Sylvain knows his deadline is approaching.

“This ball coming up…” He starts. He slows his walking pace to give himself more time. “I had an idea.”

Felix slows his steps to match.

“I thought you probably won’t want to go.” Sylvain explains. “It’ll be crowded. Noisy. You’ll have to wear a stuffy formal outfit that you’ll be uncomfortable in, and dance to boring music, and talk to people you don’t care about. But I think we can have our own fun!” He turns to Felix with a wicked grin.

“So why don’t you spend the night with me?” He claps his hand against his chest. “We can sneak out, I’ll get some drinks, make a cute picnic thing and look at the stars like when we were kids.”

Felix halts his steps. He turns his head to meet Sylvain’s confident and expectant gaze.

“Sylvain,” He breathes. “I… I can’t. I’m going to the ball.”

“What?” Sylvain cocks his head to the side incredulously. “Why?”

“Someone asked me. I have a-“ Felix’s eyes dart from side to side. “A date.”

Sylvain forgets how to breathe. His body and face freeze in a position of shocked blankness. His eyes are slightly wide, and his hands clench into fists, but he does an admirable job of disguising the crushing rage and sadness that envelops him. His ears are flooded with white noise. A lump forms in his throat and his eyes sting. If anyone were to brush against him, he might just topple over and shatter into a million pieces. 

“Who?” He wheezes. Felix wrings his hands together.

“Haylan. The guy I’ve been training with.”

“Oh.” Sylvain swallows. “Oh okay.

“Why didn’t you ask me earlier?!” Felix balls his hands into frustrated fists. Sylvain is shocked and confused by the sudden change in his demeanour.

“He asked me first. Why are you just asking me now?” He’s angry. “You can’t ask me these things last minute. I can’t change my plans-!”

“You don’t want to go?”

“I didn’t say that.” Felix deflates. There’s a torrent of emotions inside him. He’s mad, sad, and then guilty that he feels mad and sad. He had been so excited, finally at peace with himself and Sylvain, but then Sylvain had to go and show just the smallest flicker of interest again. Felix is exhausted.

“Do you like him?”

“Yeah!” Felix whines. He does. He really does. So why does he feel like shouting?

“Well that’s good.” Sylvain swallows down the remnants of the lump in his throat. He schools his features into a well-practiced, easy going expression. 

“Who knew, huh?” He laughs and punches Felix’s shoulder. “You’d go and get a date before me. I never thought it would happen.”

What a fool he had been.

…

Sylvain appears at breakfast the next morning with pallid skin and dark circles around his sunken eyes. He wanders over to a seat next to Dorothea and Mercedes, and collapses in it. He lurches forward so his head and face meet the table with a dull thud. Dorothea and Mercedes share a worried looking, before they turn their attention back to Sylvain.

“Rough morning?”

“Felix has a date to the ball.” Sylvain’s hoarse voice croaks up. Dorothea winces with an edible hiss. Mercedes closes her eyes and clasps her hands together as if in prayer.

“With who?” She dares to ask.

“Some guy called Haylan.” 

Dorothea hisses louder. She had been worried about that. Haylan was someone she was only peripherally aware of, but even she could see how quickly he had climbed to the top of the pile of Felix’s admirers. His courage to openly flirt with Felix and not shy away from his desires, has made him a fierce competitor. Most of the people who liked Felix were small, shy, girls, who were only barely moving out of their mean middle-school flirting habits. And then there’s Sylvain who has the emotional confidence of a mushroom. 

“Do you know him?” Dorothea asks.

“No. At least not to my knowledge.” Sylvain’s voice is muffled against the table. 

“You should. He was in your battalion during the Battle of Eagle and Lion.” She huffs.

“I see a lot of boys everyday, Dorothea.”

He barely lifts his head to rest his chin on the table. He pouts and looks up with pleading eyes.

“So now _I_ need a date to this thing.”

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.” Mercedes tries to be supportive.

“Of course I have to go. It’s weird if I don’t go.”

He puts on his best puppy dog eyes. He looks more pathetic than endearing.

“Will you go with me Mercedes?”

“Oh!” Her eyes widen. “I’m sorry Sylvain. I promised I’d go with Annie and Ingrid. We’re making it a girl’s night thing.” She sheepishly smiles. “I’d invite you, but then I would be breaking the sacred pact that is girl’s night.”

Sylvain huffs, but he understands. He lifts himself up on his elbows.

“Dorothea?”

“Ha.” She laughs humourlessly. “Both Petra _and_ Ferdinand have asked me to go. I haven’t picked which one just yet, but I’m definitely unavailable.”

“Probably Petra?” Mercedes whispers.

“Probably Petra” Dorothea nods.

Sylvain flops back in his chair with a groan. He can’t believe that he, himself, Sylvain Jose Gautier, is struggling to find a date to this event. This is when he would just work through his list of potentials in his head, but he’s too caught up in a self loathing spiral.

“Am I so repulsive?” He mumbles.

Dorothea rolls her eyes. She takes a bite of her fruit salad when her eyes catch a flurry of pink at the end of the dining hall. Hilda saunters in with a skip in her step and a swing in her hips. Her pigtails bounce around her like spring ribbons on a maypole. Dorothea kicks Sylvain under the table.

“Hey,” She nods in Hilda’s direction. Sylvain follows her line of sight.

“What about Hilda? You two kinda suit each other.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Pretty, rich, strong fighters, emotionally manipulative to the point of being cruel, did I mention rich?” She smirks.

“I like Hilda fine. She’s cute. She’s fun, but surely she’s going with Claude, right?” Sylvain ignores her dig at his character.

“Let’s see. Oh Hilda!” Dorothea calls out. Hilda’s head whips around and she spies Dorothea waving at her. She makes her way towards the quartet.

“Oh! Good morning, Dorothea. What’s up?” She asks a little cautiously. She’s not particularly close to anyone at this table, and knows they shouldn’t have any business with her.

“Do you have a date to the ball?” Dorothea bats her long lashes.

Hilda’s demeanour shifts. She rushes closer and grips her food tray tighter. 

“No!” She whispers. “Don’t tell anyone or Lorenz will ask me. I’ve been avoiding him for five days now.” She whines.

“Why? Do you know someone? Oh god _please_ tell me you know someone.”

Dorothea and Mercedes both silently gesture towards Sylvain. He awkwardly smiles.

“Oh.” Hilda looks him up and down. She juts out a hip and cocks her head with interest. “Well, well, what a surprise. I thought you would show up with a small fleet of girls.”

“Yeah, well.” He sighs. “Some weeks even this ladykiller strikes out.”

“Uh huh.” Hilda laughs. 

“What about you? I thought you had Claude wrapped around your finger?”

“Yeah me too.” She seethes through clenched teeth. She is tense and quiet for a moment. Long enough that Sylvain sends a panicked look over to Dorothea. The other girl avoids eye contact and takes a long sip of her tea.

“He’s busy apparently.” Hilda sighs. She masterfully stitches her smile and peppy personality back together. 

“So what time are you going to pick me up?”

“Does six work for you?” Sylvain smiles his most charming smile.

“Ooh fashionably late. I like your style.” Hilda giggles. “Alright, sounds good, handsome. Just don’t wear red.”

“But red is my signature colour!” Sylvain gasps.

“Absolutely not! It clashes with my hair!” Hilda shrieks. “Wear green or blue. It’ll look super cute on both of us. Do not…ruin this for me.”

There’s a threatening edge to Hilda’s voice. Sylvain wonders if she learnt it from her brother. He concedes that there is no arguing with her.

“Fine, fine. I’ll wear green.”

“Very cute. I’ll look like a fresh spring morning.” She winks. “See you then!” 

She saunters away with a swish of her hips.

“That girl’s dangerous.” Mercedes whispers with hushed awe. The others nod.

“I think she might be my hero.” Dorothea almost swoons.

…

Sylvain’s mood has evened out more by the next day. A full 24 hours of stewing in his own sadness leaves him exhausted, but a little clearer in his head. He leans on the wall of the training grounds waiting for his lance training class to start. Dimitri is inspecting the training lance’s next to him, trying to select the sturdiest one, and Ingrid munches on a bean bun while she sits on a bench. She’s already had breakfast, but says she needs to keep her energy up for training. Lorenz is beside them doing obnoxious lunges, whilst Leonie tells him he looks like an idiot. Sylvain exhales with a chuckle. He does appreciate lance training just for the frequent opportunity to watch Leonie bring Lorenz down a peg. Ferdinand stands next to her. He waffles about the importance of a good stretch to prevent injury.

Leonie rolls her eyes. She looks across the field at another group of students assembling for a class. She waves at a tall boy with strong shoulders and red hair. He waves back. He looks vaguely familiar to Sylvain.

“Who’s that?” He asks.

“Oh,” Leonie notices Sylvain. “That’s Haylan. He’s a commoner in your house.” She arches an eyebrow. 

“I’m surprised you don’t know him. He’s been hanging out with Felix a lot lately.”

“Well then I should go introduce myself.”

Sylvain isn’t sure what his plan is when he picks up a lance and marches across the grounds. His feet seem to move on their own. His thoughts are eerily silent. He moves like a lion that has just spied an injured animal.

“Hey,” Sylvain stops only a pace away from Haylan’s side. Haylan whips his head around and stumbles back.

“Oh! Sir Sylvain, w-what can I do for you?” He straightens his spine and flashes his most respectful smile.

“Oh?” Sylvain crosses his arms. “You know me?”

“Of course! I was in your battalion during the Battle of Eagle and Lion. You lead us very well.” He chuckles. 

“I hear you’ve been training with my friend, Felix?” Sylvain smirks, but it pains him to do so.

“Oh!” A blush creeps across the other man’s features. “Yeah I have. He’s an excellent teacher.”

_I bet_. Sylvain wants to spit, but he keeps it to himself.

“Care to show me what he’s taught you?” Sylvain holds up his lance and nods over at a vacant patch of sand.

“Uhhhhh...” Haylan is caught off guard by this offer. He has no idea what Sylvain is capable of. On foot anyway. He assumes he’s good if Felix frequently trains with him.

“Suuuure.” He hesitantly accepts, mostly out of social obligation.

“How are we... doing this? First to hit?”

“Mmmm,” Sylvain scratches his chin. “First to pin.”

“Oh god.” Haylan mumbles under his breath. “Alright.”

He follows Sylvain over to the empty expanse of sand and readies himself. He descends into the stance Felix had taught him, that now feels comfortable and familiar. 

“Should we count to 3?”

“3!” Sylvain lunges at him with uncharacteristic aggression. Their wooden weapons collide with a deafening crack. Haylan’s pulse shoots up. He quickly realises that this is not going to be a pleasant competition. He grips his sword tightly to block against the next attack. It hits and he winces. He tries to deflect Sylvain’s lance into the ground, but Sylvain is too quick for that. He twirls his lance around Haylan’s weapon, never letting him apply much force or leverage to it. He marches closer, and closer, creeping into Haylan’s space, who is doing an admirable job of deflecting his attacks. He stays grounded as he spins to the side of one of Sylvain’s lunges. It’s a trademark Felix move. Sylvain scowls at the sight of it. He bears down harder.

Sylvain is strong. Much stronger than Felix. That’s okay. Haylan is also strong, so he can deal with hard hits and powerful strikes. What he is not prepared for however, is how fast Sylvain is. He just recovers from one powerful hit, when another comes barreling down on him from a different angle. He blocks a hit to his right side, and tries to slide up the inner of Sylvain’s lance to attack his open torso, but Sylvain has already retracted his weapon and thrusts it towards Haylan’s gut. He barely dodges, then blocks a blow to his head. It rattles up his forearms. It’s an uncharacteristic lance move.

“You use axes or something?” Haylan wheezes.

“Yeah.” Sylvain grunts. He’s already preparing his next attack. Haylan decides he needs to go on the offensive if he has any hope of landing a hit. He charges him.

Sylvain twirls his lance around to hold with two hands like a staff. Haylan runs forward. As he draws his sword back to strike, Sylvain aligns his lance with the length of Haylan’s body. With a mighty push and lift, Sylvain heaves Haylan off of the ground and tosses him away. The large man hits the ground hard and rolls across the sand. His entire left side throbs. Remarkably, he keeps his grip on his sword. He pushes himself up onto all fours with a wheeze and attempts to stand. Sylvain does not give him the chance. With a vicious flick of his wrist and a burst of light, he sends a sagittae spell flying. It hits Haylan square in the chest, sending him crashing backwards into the sand. He gulps for air as the impact leaves him winded. His throat burns. He can’t move his body. Sylvain stalks towards him, lance raised.

“Sylvain!” Professor Byleth’s voice echoes throughout the grounds. An eerie silence falls over the venue. Sylvain turns over his shoulder. Byleth glares at him with an icy fury. It is a clear warning to step down. Sylvain clicks his tongue. He walks over to where Haylan lies and offers him a hand up. With his adrenaline coming down, he finally realises how hard he is breathing. Haylan gratefully takes his hand. He’s pulled onto his feet and holds his sore ribs.

“Hey,” He wheezes. “Have I done something to piss you off?” 

“What?” Sylvain starts to return to his usual demeanour. “No. Why?”

“You just seemed like you were really mad at me. Like it was personal.”

“Oh.” Sylvain swallows. “No. Sorry. Just competitive I guess.”

“Sylvain get back here! Class is starting!” Ingrid calls out.

“Gotta go then.” Sylvain smiles. “It was nice finally meeting you.”

“Yeah.” Is all Haylan replies. He can’t say this has been the most pleasant introduction. 

Sylvain runs back to the group and Byleth meets him. She pushes a bottle of oil into his chest.

“Oil your weapon and sit down. We’ll have a chat _later_.” She speaks low and quiet. It sends chills up Sylvain’s spine. He dutifully does as he’s told, avoiding eye contact with the rest of his class that seem to wear shocked and wary expressions. Even Dimitri seems unnerved by his actions.

“Alright class, come close.” The rest of the students shuffle into a circle around their professor. “Today I want to discuss...” Byleth trails off. She glances over her students shoulders as the door to the training grounds opens and Felix squeezes his small frame through. He jogs up to the group. Sylvain lifts his eyes when he gets close. Felix gives him a little wave. Sylvain beams and waves back. 

“Professor, sorry to interrupt, Seteth has asked me to deliver a message.” He announces.

“Oh god, what is it?” Byleth sighs.

“He asks that you join the rest of the staff for a meeting this afternoon. The meeting will be in his office.”

“What does he want to discuss?”

“Professor, I’m just a messenger. I don’t know.” Felix drops his polite demeanour. He never manages to keep it for long.

“Alright, alright, I’ll be there.” Byleth waves him off. “Let me get back to my class.”

Felix turns on his heel. He’s about to run back to Seteth when he spies a flash of red across the field. Hayner waves at him. He smiles wide and jogs over.

“Hey, why are you crashing lance training over there?” Hayner manages to ask. Felix’s eyebrows leap up.

“I’m... I’m just asking the professor something. Why are you breathing so hard?” Felix steps back and takes in Haylan’s appearance. His chest heaves with his breathing and there’s the sheen of sweat on his brow. There’s a fresh graze on his cheek and several grains of sand cling to it.

“Oh, uh, I just sparred with Sylvain.” He laughs humourlessly. 

Felix’s eyes narrow in confusion. 

“What? That’s weird that the professor would pair you two up.”

“Oh no, this was before she arrived. He asked me to.”

Felix’s eyes narrow further. Sylvain _never_ trains more than he has to, and why would he seek out Haylan of all people?

“How did that go?” Felix asks nervously.

“Oh he kicked the shit out of me!” Haylan laughs. There’s a knot of worry forming in Felix’s gut. He hopes Haylan is not seriously hurt.  
“Jeez, what’s gotten into him.” He reaches up to brush his fingers against the graze on Haylan’s cheek. Haylan winces.

“Hold still. I’ll take care of it.” Felix’s fingertips glow with a healing spell, and warmth spreads along the surface he touches. The torn skin stitches itself back together and the stinging pain immediately fades. 

“There.” Felix cups his cheek. Haylan turns his face into the touch and softly kisses Felix’s palm. His green eyes sparkle with fondness. Felix smiles.

SNAP!

Everyone whips their heads around in the direction of the sound. Sylvain holds his lance, now in two pieces. His fearful eyes lock with Haylan’s before he quickly turns away.

_Oh. Oh I get it._

Haylan glares at the other redhead. The events of his morning play back for him, and he starts to sew certain events and consequences together. 

“You’re class is starting.” Felix nods over at Haylan’s approaching instructor. “I gotta go.”

“Okay.” Haylan gives him an easy smile and a small kiss on his temple. Because he can. Because he’s allowed to. Felix sighs into it. 

“I’ll see you later.”

“Alright.” Felix jogs off with a wave. He heads for the lance training class and tuts at Sylvain.

“What the hell is the matter with you?” He chides. “Are you such an oaf that you can’t even oil a weapon without breaking it?”

“Actually these weapons aren’t as sturdy as you’d think!” Dimitri inserts himself into the moment. 

Felix’s glares daggers at him. Dimitri closes his mouth and slinks back to his spot against the wall. 

Felix leaves the training grounds without another word.

…

The night of the ball quickly approaches and the entire monastery is abuzz. All day classes are rendered usueless, as students continuously ignore their teachers and chat with one another about their plans. Who they are going with, what they are wearing, how they want to spend their evening, what food they hope will be offered. The communal baths are crowded from one o’clock onwards. Felix manages to snag a shower at least. It’s not relaxing, but it gets the job done. He walks back to his dorms and lets Annette dry his hair. It’s definitely one of the more inventive ways he’s seen her use a wind spell.

“Could I do this?” He asks.

“This actually takes a lot of control.” Annette explains. “To get your hair looking nice and sleek and shiny, I’m having to hold it back a lot. If you did it I worry your hair would end up in a big, poofy, tangled mess.” She giggles.

“But with some practice? Absolutely!” She finishes and cards her fingers through Felix’s silky locks.

“Ooh, it’s so smooth and soft. You should let me do this all the time.”

“Too much effort.” Felix sighs. Though he must admit that it does look nice. He brushes his own fingers through it and smiles at the sensation.

“Are we done?”

“Not at all.” Annette slaps his hand away. She combs Felix’s hair with her fingers and scoops up the strands next to one ear. She pins them up, giving Felix’s hair a bit more shape. She admires her handy work, then goes over to a box on her dresser. She rummages through it.

“What colour is your jacket tonight?” She asks. 

“Uhh...” Felix stammers.

“Oh god, _please_ tell me you know what you’re wearing.” She pleads.

“I do! I do, it’s uh.... blue. Dark blue.”

“Great!” Annette retrieves a small, silver hair pin from her modest jewellery box. There is a blue, glass stone on its face, that catches the light and sparkles like a sapphire. Felix leans away from her hands with a grimace.

“I don’t know about that.”

“Please Felix! Please please please please please! I’ll never ask you for anything again!” Annette stamps her little feet. “It’ll be super pretty! It’ll look so nice! Please!”

“Alright! Alright!” Felix huffs. Annette immediately beams and slides the clip into his hair. It’s small, and delicate, but looks striking against the backdrop of raven coloured hair. Annette coos about how nice it looks.

“Am I free to go now?” Felix sighs.

“Yes! Yes! You can escape now. I’m so excited to see you all fancy tonight, Felix.” She helps him up and ushers him to her door. 

“I bet you’ll look so princely and handsome.” 

“Uh huh.”

“Save a dance for me, okay?” Annette waves as Felix enters the hall.

“Sure thing.” He smiles back at her.

Felix climbs the stairs up to his hall and enters his own room. He opens his closet to stare at the one outfit that stands out so brightly amongst the rest of his clothes. Mercedes had been kind enough to take pity on him, and with Ashe’s assistance, had bought and picked out Felix’s clothes for him. Felix had paid them back of course, but it was a relief that he didn’t have to wade through the racks of options and pick something out when he has no sense of taste or style of his own.

He pulls on the shirt first. It’s white with a high collar and ruffled sleeves. The ruffles gather on the cuffs and delicately drape over his thin wrists. He has a silver broach, inlaid with a sapphire, that he uses to fasten his collar. It’s the one piece of luxury he has brought from his home in Farghus. It was his brother’s at one time. Glenn liked to wear it in a similar way when he would attend fancy estate dinners. It feels heavy against Felix’s throat. 

He pulls on his black slacks. They sit high on his narrow waist and are tailored to his slim legs. They are very similar to his riding pants, but are made of a stronger, softer material. He slips into polished, calf high, boots. The black leather is glossy and miraculously not scuffed. His father had forced him to pack them. 

“Just one pair! One pair of nice boots won’t kill you, Felix.” He had insisted. Felix supposes he’ll have to thank his father later. They are the only pair of shoes that are even close to matching the elegance of his outfit. 

Felix reaches into his closet and pulls out the final piece. He slips on the navy blue waistcoat. It looks remarkably similar to the doublet Sylvain had pointed out to him, with silver buttons and embroidery that swirls into a leaf like pattern. It pleasantly synches in his waist, and the hem cuts him just above the hips. He had been pleasantly surprised when Mercedes and Ashe had presented him with it. He is not very tall, and so has a hard time with long coats or jackets. They swallow him up. It is why he avoids the official Garreg Mach jacket as much as he can. 

He fastens the silver buttons and flattens down the fabric with his hands. He appraises his reflection in the mirror and sighs. He definitely looks different. _Like Glenn._ And his father. He’s almost annoyed with how well his fine features and porcelain skin suit the expensive garments, like he can never truly escape his Fraldarius lineage. He closes his eyes. He breathes deeply, stowing those thoughts away. He continues to focus on his breathing as he walks over to his door and steps through. His heels clack on the hard wooden floor.

Haylan is already waiting for him in the hall. He wears a knee length burgundy coloured coat, with a pale gold lining. Brass buttons line his stomach up to where a white cravat puffs against his chest. There is minimal gold embroidery along his cuffs and lapels, likely to keep the cost of the garment down. He looks handsome and grand. He smiles wide when he sees Felix. Then his jaw drops a bit.

“You look...” He starts. Felix flushes under his gaze. “You look beautiful.”

“Thanks.” Felix mumbles. He has a hard time accepting compliments on his appearance, never quite sure how to take them. But he believes Haylan is being honest.

“You look very handsome.”

“Thanks.” Haylan laughs. “I wish I had something fancier to match you.”

“This is plenty fancy for me.” Felix traces his hand over Haylan’s chest. He smiles up at the taller boy. Haylan brushes his hand through Felix’s hair. He bends down and kisses him on the cheek. Felix smiles at the affection.

“Shall we?” Haylan steps back and holds out his arm with a cheesy grin.

“Alright.” Felix takes his arm. He tucks himself into his side as they walk through the courtyard and saunter into the great hall. 

...

Sylvain meets Hilda outside in the courtyard. Her hair is gathered into an elegant high ponytail, embellished with a large, pink dahlia and dark green leaves. Her dress, a shepherdess style spring green, flutters in the wind. Her waist it accented with a deep, forest green sash, and light pink rosebuds are embroidered into the neckline of her bodice. She looks fresh and glowing. The scent of her perfume travels on the wind.

“Well don’t you look lovely.” Sylvain smiles.

“Oh, Sylvain,” Hilda tries to look shy. “Please go on.” 

They both laugh and Sylvain comes to lean on the fence next to her. He’s dressed in his trademark roguishly handsome style, with his his shirt left open at the collar and dipping low to show off his chest. His emerald green coat highlights his broad shoulders and small waist. It is cut short in the front, but extends into long tails in the back. They accentuate the curve of his ass in a dangerous way and flutter behind him as he walks. 

“You don’t look so bad yourself.” Hilda grins. She runs her hands over Sylvain’s broad shoulders. 

“This is a great colour on you. You should wear it more often.”

“A redhead in green? Isn’t that a bit cliche?” He sighs.

“No it’s _classic_.” She lightly hits him on the chest. The wind shifts and she pauses. Her eyes narrow and she lifts onto her tip toes. She sniffs around Sylvain’s jaw.

“Have you been drinking?” She frowns.

“I had one drink. That’s it. I promise.” Sylvain crosses his arms defensively. Hilda sighs.

“God, ok, but if you get drunk and embarrass me-“

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Lady Goneril.” Sylvain bends over into a low bow. 

“Now will you allow me to escort you to the ball on this fine evening?”

“Alright, alright you charmed me.” They link arms and head towards the ball.

...

Hilda and Sylvain enter the venue with the party in full swing. Hilda waves at Marianne, who had been unfortunately cornered and asked by Lorenz. She looks lovely, but slightly awkward on Lorenz’s arm. Ingrid whistles loudly at Sylvain from across the hall. Sylvain winks and clicks a finger gun in her direction. Mercedes and Annette giggle behind their hands. His eyes scan the room to see Dorothea standing hand in hand with Petra. She looks sinfully beautiful in a backless crimson dress and her long curls are fastened high on her head. Sylvain spies a couple of intricate braids woven in and suspects it must be Petra’s handiwork. He’s admiring Petra’s traditional dress from Brighid when a flash of blue catches his eye. 

Felix stands with his hand holding onto Haylan’s forearm. He looks slightly timid in this unfamiliar environment, but manages a smile as Leonie regales them with some hunting tale. Felix smiles wider when Haylan slips his arm around the small of his waist. He looks up at the taller man with affection. Something painful pangs in Sylvain’s gut. It doesn’t help that Felix looks devastatingly beautiful either. Elegant and graceful, he resembles a prince from one of Ashe’s storybooks.

The band starts up a slow waltz and Hilda tugs him onto the dance floor.

“Come show me how the Farghus nobles treat a lady.” She smirks. Sylvain chuckles and obliges her.

They glide and turn on the dance floor in practiced harmony. Hilda’s dress flutters out and around her like a blooming flower. Yet despite the good company, Sylvain finds his eyes continuously wandering over to the other side of the hall. Felix laughs softly as he is pulled into Haylan’s arms and he attempts to waltz. It’s clumsy, and terrible, but that is part of the charm. Felix doesn’t seem to care and smiles wider as Haylan struggles to find the beat and performs a silly little jig. Lysithea and Leonie laugh from the sidelines. 

“You’re distracted.” Hilda chides as they sway.

“Look who’s talking.” Sylvain huffs. Hilda’s cheeks grow a darker pink. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“So it’s just a coincidence that you keep gazing longingly in Claude’s direction?” Sylvain nods over to the corner of the room where Claude is practically buzzing around the professor. His strikingly ornate beige and gold coat stands out in a sea of deep blacks and blues. Byleth gives a hint of a smile as he whisks her onto the dance floor.

“I’m not-!” Hilda blusters, but she knows it’s no use. She sighs and lets her head fall into Sylvain’s chest. He wraps his arms around her waist. 

“This sucks.” Her voice is muffled. 

“You really _do_ look beautiful tonight. I wasn’t lying.” Sylvain speaks softly. 

“Thanks.” Hilda picks up her head and looks up with glassy eyes. “You look very handsome tonight too. And your ass looks great!” She laughs. Sylvain laughs with her. She tilts her head to the side and leans on Sylvain’s chest. He pats her head and continues to sway to the music.

“Sorry you’re stuck with me.”

“It’s fine. You’re being very sweet and warm.” She closes her eyes. “There are worse places to be.”

The song finishes and Sylvain escorts Hilda over to the refreshments table. They nibble on some sandwiches and bite sized tarts. Dorothea and Petra come over to talk, and Hilda pours them all glasses of punch. Sylvain pulls a flask out of his coat’s inner pocket. He offers it to the girls. Hilda holds out her glass. 

“Hell yeah, now it’s a party.” 

“Don’t let Seteth catch you.” Dorothea laughs as she holds out her glass. 

“I won’t. I am the _king_ of being discreet.” Sylvain smirks.

Petra looks at the flask warily. She’s the only one who has not taken the offer and she looks keenly aware of that. She looks at Dorothea for any guidance. Sylvain notices her apprehension.

“How old are you again, Petra?” He asks.

“15.”

“Oh shit.” He quickly tucks his flask away. “Sorry, but I don’t want to corrupt you so early.” He smiles brightly. Petra nods and looks thankful.

“How uncharacteristically responsible of you, Sylvain.” Dorothea laughs.

“Well I do have to be on my most gentlemanly behaviour tonight. Or my date will pile drive me into the ground.”

“I have no idea what you mean.” Hilda gasps. The others chuckle. “I am a delicate flower.” Even she can’t keep herself from giggling at that. 

The band starts to play an upbeat piece and students swarm the centre of the ballroom.

“What the hell?” Sylvain looks at the crowd gathering. 

“It’s one of those cheesy group dances. With an outer and inner circle and you swap partners.” Hilda explains. The group watches as the circles form. 

“Do you wanna try it?” Dorothea asks.

“Ugh, no way, they’re so lame. My father made me do them all the time when I was growing up.” Sylvain groans.

“Oh well, that’s too bad!” Dorothea grabs Sylvain’s hand and pulls him towards the circles. She waves back at Petra. 

“I’ll be back soon!”

Petra waves with a smile. 

“I hope you will be having a nice time!”

Hilda breathes a sigh of relief that she can sit this one out, until a small boy bursts from the crowd and grabs her hand.

“Hilda! Dance with me!” Caspar doesn’t let her protest and she squawks as she’s tugged into the dance.

The dance begins and Sylvain is sure to look as bored and irritated as possible during his dance with Dorothea. This only makes her feel more satisfied. The verse ends and Sylvain twirls her under his arm, sending her off to the next person. He stays stationary and catches the next girl that is tossed his way. It’s Annette and her enthusiasm is contagious. She puts her all into the dance and smiles brightly as she and Sylvain link arms. He makes sure he twirls her an extra number of times as he passes her on. The pattern repeats and he dances with some students he does not know, and others that prefer to be silly and freestyle for a number of beats before they move on. He laughs loudly as Dimitri is tossed to him and the two boys argue over who gets to lead. Dimitri’s steps are clumsy and heavy. 

“I’m the inner circle, I get to lead.” Sylvain explains.

“But I don’t know how NOT to lead.” Dimitri laughs.

“Then why did you choose the outer circle?!”

“I didn’t know what was happening!”

“God!”

Sylvain practically kicks him onto the next person.

He receives Leonie with gentle arms and soft hands. Her peach coloured gown swirls around her and her head is topped with a crown of daisies. Sylvain almost doesn’t recognise her.

“Leonie! You look lovely!” He laughs. She rolls her eyes.

“Surprised?”

“Ah well, maybe, though you’re always lovely, I just mean-“  
“Shut up. It’s fine.” She laughs. “The dress is Hilda’s if you’re wondering.”

“Really? She let you borrow it?”

“She forced me to borrow it.” Leonie laughs. “She’s always trying to help me out with stuff like this.” She lightly slaps his cheek.

“So be nice to her alright? I’m watching you.”

“You have nothing to worry about.” Sylvain smiles. 

Sylvain dances with the professor and does his best to remain as gentlemanly as possible. Hilda turns into his arms and he kisses her hand before sending her on. Sylvain turns to catch his next partner and is unprepared when Felix falls into his arms. The two of them freeze and lose their rhythm for a moment. Felix’s hand is hot in his. They finally seem to notice the others around them and stumble to catch up in the dance. 

“Are you having a nice night?” Felix asks first.

“Yeah. It’s been better than I thought.” Sylvain answers honestly.

“You look really incredible, Felix.” He murmurs quietly between them. His voice is breathy and threatens to betray his true feelings.

Felix’s eyes widen. He looks into Sylvain’s face for a hint that he might be teasing, but finds none. He lets out a shaky exhale.

“Thank you. You too.” He lowers his head to stare at Sylvain’s chest. 

“I don’t see you in green very often. It looks nice on you.”

“Hilda made me.” The taller man chuckles.

“Well, she has good taste.”

Sylvain prepares to twirl Felix onto the next person, but the band winds down and the song ends. Felix takes his hand off of Sylvain’s shoulder and begins to pull away, but Sylvain keeps his hold firm.

“Wait,” He starts, a little too loudly. “Stay.”

Felix looks up in confusion.

“Dance with me for a bit longer. Just one song.” Sylvain smiles. Felix chews his bottom lip in thought.

“Alright.” He takes Sylvain’s hand again.

The band starts up a slow song. It’s a stark contrast to the one they have just played. It is smooth and romantic. Sylvain instinctively pulls Felix close, holding him by the small of his back. They start off with some sense of a waltz that matches the music, but gradually end up forgetting the beat entirely. Wordlessly, they press closer together until Felix rests his head on Sylvain’s chest. He closes his eyes and enjoys the warmth against him. Sylvain still holds his hand, but brings it closer to his shoulder, no longer stretching their arms out straight like he was taught in his etiquette lessons. He laces their fingers together. He forgets about the band and anyone else in the ballroom and gently sways to his own rhythm. Felix sighs against him. With what feels like a final plunge, Sylvain rests his cheek on top of Felix’s head. He expects Felix to squirm or grumble for him to get off, but no protests come. Instead, Felix enjoys being surrounded by Sylvain’s warm, outdoorsy smell. He reminds Felix of the pine forests and peppercorn trees of his home. He breathes deeply and clutches Sylvain’s shoulder tighter.

Haylan watches the couple from the far side of the ballroom.

The song eventually ends and Sylvain opens his eyes like waking from a dream. He unclasps Felix’s hand, and tries to step away. Felix seems to remember himself and he lifts off of Sylvain’s chest. Neither of them knows how to completely break it off. Sylvain lifts his gaze to see Haylan waiting on the sidelines. It’s what he needs to give himself a jumpstart.

“Your date is waiting for you.” He nods in Haylan’s direction.

“Oh!” Felix comes back to earth. He smooths down his waistcoat and hair. “Yes, yes, I should go see him.”

“Thank you for the dance.” Sylvain bows low with a smile. Felix grins back at him, sadly. 

“Of course. Anytime.”

They turn away from each other. Felix’s heels click against the hard floor and the sound grows distant as he walks into Haylan’s arms. 

“You okay?” Haylan asks.

“Fine.” Felix’s voice is soft and clipped. “I’m fine. Do you want to get something to eat?”

Sylvain lets out a deep exhale and starts to walk towards the front entrance. Hilda slips her arms around his and fits into his side.

“Hey big boy, how you holding up?” She rubs a comforting hand up his forearm. Sylvain takes out his flask.

“Not great. Thought I’d go outside and be sad under the gazebo.” He wiggles his flask. “Care to join me?”

“I-“

“Hilda! Hilda!”

Both of their heads whip around at the yelling. Caspar stands at the catering table. His jacket and cravat have been ditched, and he’s rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. He wears a bright and manic smile.

“Hilda! Wanna see how many of these tarts I can shove in my mouth?! I bet it’s like 15!”

Linhardt stands at his side with a worried, but slightly curious expression.

Hilda turns back to Sylvain.

“I actually think I’m going to stay here.” She smiles. “I’m so over being sad. It really doesn’t suit me.”

Sylvain chuckles. 

“Thank you for a lovely evening, Hilda.”

“You too.” She fondly punches his chin.

“Hilda!”

“Alright! I’m coming!” Hilda stomps her way over to the refreshments table.

“And don’t be such a coward, Caspar! You can totally do 16!”

…

After another hour or so, the ball begins to wind down. Haylan pulls Felix in for one last dance, then decides to leave for the gardens when Claude starts a conga line of Golden Deer students.  
“You don’t want to join them?” Haylan laughs and points to the line swirling around the ballroom. Annette and Lysithea sprint to catch up to the end of it and latch on.

“Absolutely not.” Felix grimaces. Haylan laughs and leads him outside. The thudding of drums, feet and laughter becomes muffled as they further from the great hall. The air smells sweet with night jasmine and the wind is brisk. The couple stops at a small garden bed. Haylan leans on the fencing protecting the delicate blooms. Felix joins him. He looks down at the flowers, briefly lost in how their pale petals reflect the moonlight and sway in the breeze. It is quiet and cool. A pleasant escape from all the heat and noise of the evening.

“So…” Haylan starts. He rubs his hand over the smooth wooden fencing, tracing the knots and grain. 

“How long have you been in love with Sylvain?”

Felix jerks his head up. The night wind cuts through him and it is impossibly cold. His body freezes. He only stares at Haylan with a terrified expression.

“I…. What?” He barely croaks out. Haylan turns to face him. He sinks his hands in his pockets and his lips pull into a sad smile. His green eyes pierce Felix with understanding. Felix cannot lie to him. Cannot even attempt to. 

“I’m not upset.” He smiles.

“Haylan, I’m sorry.” Felix whispers. He feels impossibly small. His hands grip the fence until his knuckles turn white.

“I never wanted to hurt you. That was never my intention.”

“I believe you.” Haylan sighs. He leans on the fence. His body language is too relaxed, too accepting. Felix wishes he would just scream at him already.

“But I’m not what you want.” Haylan casts his eyes to the ground. 

“You could be.” Felix turns towards him. His eyes are wet. He speaks quickly and desperately. “Haylan you made me feel so special. You made me feel wanted and desired for the first time in my life. I _care_ about you, I-“

His tears start to freely roll down his cheeks. Haylan holds his fingers up to his lips. 

“You’re _settling_ for me, Felix. You are.” He tenderly brushes Felix’s hair away from his face. “And if we were older and I thought I could make you happy, I might take you up on that.” He laughs.

“But I think I need to step away now. Before I really fall for you.” He whispers. “Do you understand that?”

Felix wordlessly nods. He understands, but he hates that he does. He knows what it feels like to be so close to having someone be entirely yours, but unable to fully cast your hand around them. He would never want Haylan to endure that pain. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispers again. Haylan shakes his head. 

“Don’t be. I don’t want there to be any bad feelings between us.” He steps in front of Felix. 

“I will always remember our time together fondly.” He takes his hand and bows low with a flourish. He kisses the back of Felix’s knuckles. Felix manages a smile, but it’s hard to believe him with his tears still gleaming in the moonlight. Haylan rises and cups his cheek.

“You deserve happiness, Felix. I hope you find it.”

“You too.”

Haylan kisses Felix’s forehead one last time. When the darkness swallows him, and his figure is no longer visible, Felix dissolves into sobs.

…

Sylvain watches the interaction from his spot beneath the gazebo. They are far away, and he is slightly drunk, so he has a hard time making out the exact details of their goodbyes. He sees Haylan kiss Felix’s hand and forehead, but Felix seems stiff under his touch. When Haylan leaves, Sylvain is confused that Felix does not go with him. It is only proper to escort a date to their room before leaving. Sylvain squints at Felix. When the smaller boy falls onto the fence with his head in his hands, Sylvain’s stomach turns cold. His legs spring into action and he darts across the lawns and cobblestones. He slows to a jog when he is in earshot of Felix.

Felix hears the sound of footfalls and whips around to put his back towards the approaching intruder. He sniffles and wipes his face on his sleeve. The intricate lace of the ruffles is now stained.

“Hey,” Sylvain speaks softly.

Felix scrunches his eyes tight. This is the last person he needs to see right now. The entire cause of his misery. 

“Fuck _off,_ Sylvain.” He spits. “I want to be left alone.”

“I- I can’t leave you like _this_.” Sylvain stammers in disbelief. He looks in the direction that Haylan left.

“Did… Did that guy _dump_ you?” He clenches his fists and goes to march after the other man, but Felix catches him by the elbow.

“No, Sylvain! Stop!” He yanks Sylvain back to him. Sylvain wheels on his heel to face Felix. He’s crying. A lot. His skin sparkles with tears and his eyes are red. Sylvain’s heart drops into the pit of his stomach. He wants to scream and fight. Wants to punish anyone for bringing Felix to this state.

But the trembling hand on his elbow keeps him rooted firmly to the spot. He reaches out his thumb and wipes away one of Felix’s tears.

“What happened?” He asks softly. Felix cannot bear to say. He just stands there, eyes downcast and body trembling with sadness.

“Did he break up with you?”

This seems to snap Felix back to his senses. He throws his hands up with a frustrated sob.

“I dunno! Does it count as a break up if you’re not even sure you were dating?” He spins to lean forwards on the fence. He’s not openly crying anymore. His face twists into a scowl of hurt and confusion. Sylvain licks his lips and chooses his next words carefully.

“Did you _want_ to date him?”

“No!” Felix snaps. “Yes?! …. I don’t know!” He spits. He sighs and tries to gather himself. Tries to sort through the maelstrom of feelings inside of him. The mixture of his longing, sadness and frustration just all merges and feels like despair. He leans forward and rests his head on his arms.

“I liked the way he looked at me. I liked the way he touched me.” He confesses. It’s an incredibly vulnerable and private thought that Felix has uttered out loud. He likes people to think of him as strong, emotionless, even sexless… wanting nothing and no one. Sylvain steps close, knowing how much Felix must be struggling with this.

“He was nice. He liked me, but…” He sighs and buries his face in his arms.

“Ugh I got all my hopes up for nothing.”

“Hopes? For what?” Sylvain innocently asks. He rubs comforting circles in the middle of Felix’s back.

“Nothing. It’s stupid.” Felix turns his face away. The tips of his ears are pink. 

“I’m sure it’s not. Tell me.”

“You’ll just make fun of me.”

“I won’t.” Sylvain tries to sound as earnest as he can. He wants to be there for his friend. For the person that means the most to him.

“I promise.”

They are both quiet for a long time. The silence is filled with crickets and the gentle rustle of leaves. Sylvain patiently waits. 

“I’ve never kissed anyone. Not properly anyway.” Felix whispers. His face is still turned away. “I was hoping…. I don’t know… maybe tonight I would get to do that.”

Sylvain’s hand on his back stills. There’s the hint of a chuckle under his voice.

“You haven’t had your first kiss?”

“No!” Felix wheels on him. There’s a fury of betrayal in his eyes. He starts gesturing wildly.

“It was a mistake to tell you! I don’t expect someone like _you_ to understand my feelings-!”

“Felix! Felix, relax.” Sylvain catches his wrists and holds him tight. Felix scowls up at him, but is too weak to overpower his hold.

“I’m not making fun of you. I was just surprised.” His voice is smooth and calm. “I’m sorry it didn’t happen for you.”

Felix huffs and goes limp in his hold. Sylvain releases him and he turns back to lean on the fence.

Sylvain joins him. He watches Felix’s hair blow around him in the wind. It carries with it the smell of his shampoo. Lavender and apples. Sylvain could identify the smell from a mile away. He looks at Felix’s profile, admiring how it is haloed by the light of the moon. His high cheekbones, the slope of his fine nose, the plush of his pink lips. Sylvain licks his own lips and stares until an idea begins to form in his head. It starts as a pure fantasy, but it rolls out of Sylvain’s mouth before he can stop it.

“What if _I_ kissed you?”

It’s whispered into the night. Felix’s eyes widen for a fraction of a second before he huffs and rolls his eyes.

“You’re drunk. I can smell it on you.”

“Maybe. But that’s now why I’m offering.”

“Then why _are_ you offering?” Felix scowls. Sylvain tries to gather his thoughts. Tries to form some sort of argument other than _because I want to._ He rises to stand up straight. 

“Felix, I’m not good at this. I can’t offer you the right words of comfort or tell you that you’ll feel better.” He laughs. “I’ve never been good at dealing with my _own_ feelings, you know that, so it would be hypocritical for me to try to give you any advice.” He swalllows. Felix’s scowl softens into something more open. 

“But you’re my friend. And this is something I _can_ offer you.” He smiles. “I want to help you remember this night because something _nice_ happened. Not because you were sad over some guy.”

Felix is quiet. He thinks over Sylvain’s offer. He wants to say yes. Of _course_ he wants to say yes. If he let his body have its way he would have grabbed Sylvain by the lapels and kissed him senseless the second he offered. But he doesn’t want this to be a pity thing. His heart hurts too much as it is. He would not be able to stand it if Sylvain looked at him afterwards with a sad, pathetic look. Having to kiss his childhood friend because he was too useless to snag his own.

Sylvain does not look at him with sadness. His eyes are soft and kind. Felix believes his words. He believes that Sylvain cares for him, in some sense of the word. 

“Alright.” Felix barely breathes the word before Sylvain is cupping his neck. The taller man swoops in to catch his lips like a falcon catching his prey. He's fast and precise, just waiting for the second he can make his move. Felix stiffens at the contact. Despite agreeing and feeling prepared, his head is swimming. His legs shake and he worries he might fall. Sylvain’s arms wrap around his waist and hold him tight. He’s not falling anywhere. Felix sighs. He closes his eyes and wraps his arms around Sylvain’s neck, letting the taller man support almost his full weight. Sylvain happily obliges. He moves his lips over Felix’s with a practiced gentleness. He adjusts his position, once, twice, three times, until Felix begins to push back against him.

It’s relatively quick and innocent, but it leaves their heads light and legs wobbly. Sylvain releases Felix with a deep breath. He cups his cheek and moves his hand to tuck a few strands of hair behind his ear. Felix looks up with a dazed expression.

“There.” Sylvain breathes. “Your first kiss.”

“What was that? Number 800 for you?” Felix chides, but there is no bite to it. 

“I’ve lost count.”

“Of course.”

They turn to lean on the fence once more. They both press their weight onto their elbows and hold their hands out in front of them. Their fingers are close. Sylvain bumps their shoulders together.

“But it was my first with a friend.” Sylvain shrugs. Felix sighs out a single laugh.

“First one with someone I really care about.” Sylvain brushes his fingers along the back of Felix’s. Felix reciprocates. They silently interlace their fingers together, relishing the warmth between their palms.

“Was it okay?” Sylvain asks. Felix smiles. 

“It was nice. It was… you’re….” He scowls. He does not want to praise Sylvain on something he does not approve of, but he feels he should be honest.

“You’re good at it.”

“Oh?” Sylvain’s face lights up with a cheeky grin. It’s exactly the reaction Felix was afraid of. 

“Can you say that again please?”

“Never! I will never discuss your skills with you-“

Sylvain bends down to capture Felix’s mouth again. Felix moans at the contact and is furious with himself for it, but for the moment he enjoys the sensation. Enjoys sharing the same breath as Sylvain, and the feeling of the other man’s heartbeat through his shirt. They separate with a gentle pop. Felix looks at Sylvain again with that dazed and soft expression. He could _absolutely_ get used to that.

“Do you want to get some tea?” Felix speaks into the warm space between them.

“The dining hall is closed.”

“I mean in my room. You could have some of you wanted.”

Sylvain smiles. the butterflies in his stomach perform backflips.

“Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This seems like it would be a good ending but like... you know these two disasters will never make it easy.
> 
> Also hope you like the art? I think about clothes too much and definitely had a VISION I wanted to get across, and just drawing them seemed like the easiest way to do that.
> 
> I'm on twitter @India_draws  
> Tumblr: @irrevocably-voltron  
> instagram: @irrevocably-delicious


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The thrilling conclusion!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uhhhhh.... that fic rating went up huh.
> 
> Haha there is a wee bit of porn. Hope you uh... are into that.  
> Otherwise you can scroll past it. It's cool.

Felix is surprised to wake up feeling hot and sweaty. It almost never gets warm enough at Garreg Mach to make him this uncomfortable. His eyes blearily open and he stares up at the ceiling. He attempts to wiggle into a cooler spot of his bed before he becomes aware of the weight on top of him. There is another person in his bed, draped across him, and filling the sheets with heat. Warmth comes off of Sylvain’s skin in waves. His heavy arm and chest covers most of Felix’s torso and his face is pressed against his shoulder. 

Felix suddenly does not mind the heat anymore. They have not shared a bed since they were kids, back when they could comfortably share a single bed. Now they are pressed close to keep from rolling off. Felix feels Sylvain’s breath against his ear. He leans into the feeling. He wishes he could stay in this position for another hour or two, but from how the sunshine streams through his window, he’s pretty sure they have missed breakfast already. They both have classes to get to. Felix begins to lightly jostle the man on top of him.

“Syl... Sylvain... Wake up, idiot.” He whispers.

Sylvain’s slack face begins to show signs of life. His eyes scrunch up tight and he presses closer to Felix’s chest.

“Syl-“

“Shhhhh” Sylvain brings his hand up to clumsily cover Felix’s mouth. “Loud, not so loud, Fee.” He croaks. “My head is pounding.”

“You told me you hadn’t drunk that much.” Felix smirks.

“Yeah but that was before we came back here and we raided my stash.” He finally opens his eyes. He painfully winces at the bright room. He immediately groans and buries his face in Felix’s neck. Felix chuckles. He shifts underneath him and rolls onto his side. Cold air is pulled underneath the blankets. He holds himself up on his elbow. 

“We need to get up.”

“Says who?” Sylvain pouts. Felix rolls his eyes.

Sylvain cracks open his eyes and smiles. Despite his pounding headache and dry mouth, this is a nice way to wake up. Felix is pressed close to him. Their legs are tangled under the sheets. Away from everyone else, Felix lets himself be soft and pliant. He smiles fondly down at Sylvain. His long hair is kinked and fluffed around his face like raven feathers. His dress shirt is unbuttoned to expose most of his chest and it slips off of one shoulder. The hem is rumpled and pushed up on his hip.

Sylvain hums. He reaches out a hand to stroke Felix’s hair.

“Your bed head is cute.” He smiles and sinks against a pillow.

Felix blushes down to his chest. He pulls away from Sylvain’s touch and stumbles out of bed. He gathers up his toiletries bag, a fresh pair of underwear, and a towel into his arms.

“I’m going to shower.” He announces. “I expect to see you in class!” 

He shuffles through his door and slams it behind him. 

Sylvain collapses into the bed. He covers his face with his hands and kicks his feet with glee. 

...

After several large glasses of water, a healing spell, and a quick shower, Sylvain does manage to crawl to class. He stands with the rest of the students in the hall, waiting for the Professor to let them into the classroom. Felix is there, back in his school uniform, and his damp hair shoved into a bun. Sylvain saunters next to him. He brushes his knuckles up Felix’s nape. 

“Back to the bun I see.” He purrs. Felix shivers and claps the back of his neck.

“It’s too much of a bother to leave it down.” He huffs.

“Yeah, I know you’re being sensible, but I like it when I can touch it.” He tucks a few loose strands behind Felix’s ear.

“In what scenario would I let you touch my hair?”

“Well...” Sylvain smirks and bites his lip. He let’s Felix’s imagination finish his sentence, guess what he might want to say. What he might want to remind Felix of. Felix scoffs and bumps his hip against Sylvain’s.

“Stop thinking stupid things.”

“You asked.” Sylvain laughs. He wraps an arm around the small of Felix’s back and pulls him close. Felix lets him.

Much of the day follows this pattern. Felix and Sylvain exchange small touches and private words. They smile dopily when they think no one is looking, and their knees bump under their desk. Sylvain is distracted all day and barely writes two sentences in his notebook. He’s too busy watching Felix’s hands move over his parchment, remembering the feel of them tangled in his hair or pulling at his chest.They trade insults, but laugh frequently at the hollow words. Sylvain carries Felix’s books. It’s frivolous, it’s lighthearted, it’s all very... high school. 

They have dinner together, away from others, only partially intentionally. They show up at the dining hall early and select an empty end of a table to sit at. They chat about class, reason homework, upcoming exams, and between themselves they create an atmosphere so uncomfortably intimate that it drives all other students away. All of their friends can immediately sense it, and do not dare to even step within 10 metres of them. Except for Annette, who has to be caught by the back of her collar and pulled into a seat next to Ashe.

“They seem to be getting along well today. I don’t think we should intrude.” Mercedes lets go of Annette’s collar and takes a sip from her steaming mug. Annette crosses her arms and pouts.

“Ugh, alright.”

Felix and Sylvain finish dinner and head to the library to study. Felix prattles on about his extra research into fighting forms from Brighid, and how the professor has praised him for taking the initiative.

“She says my speed has greatly improved. And there’s a lot more creativity in my defences.” He smiles. Sylvain is happy for him.

“Sounds like you’re getting even better. Here I thought you might slow down for a bit.” Sylvain scans over his authority assignment. Diagrams of battle formations decorate the pages of his homework. 

“Of course not. I can’t afford to if I’m going to be the best.” 

Sylvain laughs. Felix remains steadfast on his goal. He wishes he had the same sense of ambition.

They briefly pull out their reason books and Sylvain helps Felix with a spell. He guides him through the symbolism of the unusual circle and they discuss the practical applications. Felix exhales a laugh through his nose.

“Who knew you’d become my tutor, Sylvain. I feel like the Professor’s classes are really sinking in.”

“Oh you know there’s _other_ subjects I could tutor you in.” He grins and winks. His hands reach for Felix’s waist.

“Stop.” Felix warns. “Now tell me if I answered this question correctly.”

“Alright, alright, so demanding.” Sylvain sighs. 

When they hear the cathedral bell chime at ten o’clock, both boys decide they need to stop for the night. They walk quickly across the brisk courtyard, trying to stop the cold night air from sinking into their bones, and breathe a sigh of relief when they enter the dorms building. Felix wonders if he’ll sleep as soundly tonight. If there was a way he could somehow convince Sylvain to stay with him again. He pushes the ridiculous idea out of his head. It had been a one time thing. Silly, fun, comforting, but brief. 

They stop in front of Felix’s door.

“Thanks for helping me study. I hope you used the time wisely too.” Felix holds his books close to his chest. Sylvain smiles.

“It’s no problem. I actually don’t mind studying.”

“You always complain when he get homework though.”

“I mean I rather _not_ do it, but it’s not terrible.” Sylvain chuckles. Felix smiles. He licks at his dry lips, chilled by the run across the courtyards. Sylvain follows the motion of his tongue.

“I should get ready for bed.” Felix nods towards his door. Sylvain steps forward.

“Hey,” He starts abruptly. His voice is lower. Felix raises an eyebrow questioningly.

“Can I kiss you goodnight?”

Felix stares up. Dumbfounded. He swears he must have heard wrong.

“Wh-what?” He blusters.

“Can I kiss you goodnight?” Sylvain repeats, serenely calm. Felix hears tea kettles whistling in his head. He freezes, not quite sure how to answer.

“Why?” Is all he can squeak out.

Sylvain shrugs.

“I like kissing you. It’s nice.” He shrugs non-chalantly, like this is no big deal. Like he kisses all of his friends goodnight. _Maybe he does???_ Felix has the brief, confusing, thought.

His eyes narrow. He stares at Sylvain, waiting for him to back out with a wink or a “Haha, just kidding”, but none come. Felix heaves a big sigh.

“Argh! Fine!” 

His eyes dart up and down the hallway like a frightened animal. The coast is clear. When he’s sure, he rises up onto his tip-toes and places a chaste kiss on Sylvain’s lips. Sylvain smiles appreciatively against him. It’s short, but it leaves them both tingling.

“Goodnight, Felix.” He sighs when Felix is firmly back on the ground. He is bright pink.

“Goodnight, Sylvain.” He hurries into his room and shuts the door in Sylvain’s face.

…

This routine repeats for the next few nights. They eat dinner together, they study or train until late, then head back to their dorms. Each time they stop at Felix’s door and Sylvain asks to kiss him. Felix agrees, but chaste kisses soon become more slow and tender as Sylvain pushes his luck. He holds Felix by the hips to stop him from escaping so quickly. 

“Okay you _have_ to go.” Felix pulls away and begins to forcefully push against Sylvain’s chest. Sylvain languidly smiles. His hands trail down to Felix’s wrists.

“Why?” He purrs.

“Because someone will see!” Felix hisses.

“Then let me inside.”

“Just go!” Felix shoves the larger man and Sylvain reluctantly heads to his own room, still laughing. 

The next day repeats much of the same pattern. They finish with their joint reason lesson late in the evening and scurry over to the dining hall right when it is beginning to close down. They sprint along the food tables, scraping up the remaining bread rolls and skewers of meat covered in sauce. The kitchen staff glare at them.

“We’ll be quick!” Sylvain tries to reassure them.

The two hungry teens make short work of the food and hand over their dirty plates in record time.

It’s late enough that they do not feel like studying, and with how quickly they ate their dinner, even Felix feels too nauseous to suggest training. Sylvain suggests a longer walk around the monastery.

“I can’t go to bed right now. I’ll have weird cheese nightmares.” He grimaces. Felix chuckles.

They walk down to the greenhouse and Felix tells Sylvain about all the herbs and flowers Ashe has planted and is hoping to gift to people in the next month

“You talk to Ashe a lot?”

“Ashe talks to me a lot. I just listen.” Felix smiles.

They leave to stand in front of the fishing pond and admire the reflection of the sky on its still surface. Sylvain finds a few flat rocks and attempts to skip them over the water. Some are more successful at this than others.

“I used to be a lot better at this.” He mumbles when his last rock immediately sinks with a comical sploosh. Felix smirks. 

Sylvain guides them to the stables and after they slip a few extra handfuls of grain to some of his favourite mounts, they both decide they should return to their rooms. They walk through the familiar halls and up the steps to their floor. They pause at Felix’s door, just like always.

“Can I kis-?”

“Do you want to come inside?” Felix blurts out. The pattern has been disrupted for the first time. Sylvain smiles brightly. He’s elated at the offer.

“I would be honoured.” He gives a cheesy little bow. Felix scoffs. He opens the door then stands aside to let Sylvain pass through. He closes the door behind them.

His room is quiet, stiflingly so. Felix becomes aware of his own breathing and the sound of his heartbeat thudding in his chest. He licks his lips and looks up at Sylvain expectantly.

Sylvain never has to be told twice. With the slightest nod from Felix, he swoops in to kiss him. Felix is knocked a little breathless from the impact. Their previous kisses had been soft, quick, almost childish in their innocence. But now with the security of a locked door behind him, Sylvain is ruthless. He holds Felix’s jaw with both hands and begins to push them backwards. Felix obliges until the back of his knees hits his bed. He opens his mouth to ask if he should sit, but Sylvain misunderstands. Felix’s lips part and he seizes the opportunity to taste inside his mouth. His tongue slides along Felix’s and the smaller man collapses onto the mattress. His legs shake as Sylvain continues to lap at his mouth. Small gasps of want are pulled from his lips. Sylvain drinks them up like they are the most delicious sweet tea. 

Mercifully, he pulls his lips away from Felix’s mouth and starts to trail kisses up his jaw. Felix takes the opportunity to catch his breath, but it isn’t easy with Sylvain’s tongue trailing up his pulse point. He needs this to stop soon, otherwise he will completely lose all sense of himself. He can feel his walls crumbling. It would be so easy to just lie back and let Sylvain use him however he wants. Let Sylvain push him down and have his fill. His crotch is right in front of him. He could easily reach out and palm him through his pants, fall onto his knees and-

“Hey,” Sylvain’s rough voice snaps him out of his fantasising. He presses another kiss to his lips. Felix closes his eyes and leans into the touch.

“You’ve gotta get to bed.” Sylvain smiles. 

“You’re not my dad.”

“No, but I know you get cranky if you stay up past eleven.” He laughs. He straightens his back to stand up to his full height. Felix lets his hand trail down his chest and settle at his hips with the movement. Sylvain trails his knuckles against his cheek.

“Goodnight, Felix.”

“Goodnight.”

Sylvain kisses the top of his head and leaves with a smile and a wave. When his door thuds shut, Felix collapses back onto his bed. He is desperately hard in his pants.

...

Sylvain shows up to his brunch date with Mercedes and Dorothea in high spirits. There is a spring in his step and a dopey smile on his face the entire time. The sunshine falls through the vine covered gazebo, casting dapples of light on their gratuitous spread of cheeses, dips, deli meats, and crackers. Mercedes nurses a spiked orange juice along with her tea. Dorothea recounts her latest shopping adventure and pours some more wine into Mercedes’ glass.

“Sylvain are you even listening?” She tuts. Sylvain’s cloudy gaze barely shifts. “I’m trying to explain why ankle straps are terrible. This is very important.”

“Oh you’ll have to forgive Sylvain, he’s been very _distracted_ this week.” Mercedes giggles. Dorothea grins sharply and leans in. 

“Oh?”

“He and Felix have been _quite_ inseparable since the ball. They walk to class together, study together. I catch Sylvain playing with Felix’s hair all the time.”

“He lets you do that?” Dorothea turns towards Sylvain. He just shrugs.

“Ashe has even said he’s heard Felix talking to someone in his room every night.” 

“I haven’t been _in_ his room every night.” Sylvain tries to scoff, but he’s clearly too chuffed with himself.

Dorothea crosses her legs and tents her fingers in her lap. She examines Sylvain with a studious eye.

“What’s going on, Sylvain? Something you’re not sharing with the class?”

Sylvain leans away from the table. He lets his head fall back and stares up into the canopy of vines and white latticework. He sighs.

“I kissed him.”

“What?!” Dorothea and Mercedes gasp in unison. They surge across the table, eager for more details. 

“When? What? How?” They squawk.

“After the ball. I asked if I could kiss him and he let me.” He holds up two fingers.

“Twice.” He smiles. “And then we went back to his room and had tea and talked and drank and then.... I woke up in bed next to him.”

“That sounds very sweet.” Mercedes sighs. 

“So are you like... together?” Dorothea probes. Sylvain grits his teeth and inhales.

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Her face scrunches with frustration. “Have you told him you _want_ to be?”

Sylvain shuts his mouth and deliberately avoids eye contact. He takes a long sip of his tea.

“Stupid.” Dorothea huffs. She angrily shoves a lump of brie into her mouth. 

“Look!” Sylvain sits up. “Part of me is worried that Felix is just humouring me. Like he’s just letting me kiss him because.... I dunno! He can see what it’s like? So if I ask him to actually be my _boyfriend_ or whatever he’ll freak out and be like ‘ew Sylvain, no. That’s never what I wanted.’ And then I don’t get to kiss him at all anymore and I die sad.” He rants. He collapses with his head in his hands. Both girls rolls their eyes at his dramatics. 

“It’s just been really nice and I have a tendency to ruin everything. So I just want to let this keep rolling for a bit. Just a little bit longer.”

Mercedes leans forward and rubs a comforting hand on Sylvain’s shoulder. Dorothea tops up his tea cup.

...

Felix invites Sylvain into his room again. They lie on his bed and kiss with a lazy, relaxed energy. Felix is starting to get used to the feeling of Sylvain’s tongue against his. He starts to take some initiative and curiously explores with his own mouth. He swipes his tongue along Sylvain’s, and gently bites his bottom lip. Sylvain lets out an appreciative sigh. His hands run up Felix’s side, keeping him warm and pulling him closer. Felix winds his arms around his neck and smiles against his lips. Sylvain pushes onwards.

He grips onto Felix’s shirt and untucks it from his trousers. He pushes the hem up onto his hips and lets his hands reach underneath. His palms press against the bare skin of Felix’s stomach.

Felix jerks away with a startled pop.

“Sorry!” Sylvain blurts out. “Sorry, was that too much?”

“N-no.” Felix shakes his head. But his hands scramble to tuck in his shirt once more. “It’s fine. It’s just getting late.” 

Sylvain looks over at the clock on the wall. It’s late, but he’s been here later. He does not believe Felix is telling the whole truth, but he knows a clear sign to leave when he sees one. He nods.

“Okay.” He kisses Felix softly and is happy when Felix reciprocates. He rolls out of the bed and Felix adjusts to a seated position.

“I’ll see you in the morning.” Felix calls after him.

“Of course.” Sylvain winks. He leaves with a smile.

...

Sylvain tries his luck the next night and receives a similar reaction. He softly kisses Felix. On his lips, his temple, the slope of his jaw. He mouths down the column of his neck, taking the smell of his lavender shampoo deep into his lungs, and places soft kisses on his collarbones. His hands trail down Felix’s back to gently cup the curve of his ass. His gives it a tentative squeeze when Felix jerks away again.

“Sorry. Do you not like that?” He immediately pulls his hands away. Felix looks cagily around the room.

“It’s just late, yeah? We should probably stop and get ready for sleep.”

Sylvain nods.

“Sure.”

He leaves the room with a concerned frown.

...

Sylvain has lance training the next day and his private reason lesson, whilst Felix has sword and grappling training. The two boys go the entire day without their paths crossing, not even for lunch or dinner. Felix notices when his day seems eerily quiet, away from Sylvain’s joking and constant chattering. Sylvain feels the absence of warmth at his side. Neither Dimitri nor Ingrid enjoy his snide comments during lance training or laugh at his impressions of the professor. 

He briefly sees Haylan across the training grounds and the two share a tense look. Haylan nods at him, and Sylvain feels like he’s been approved somehow. He does his best to not notice him for the rest of the lesson. 

He eats a late lunch with Mercedes and Annette, before he goes to his reason lesson. It runs late… as usual. It is obvious that Byleth really does not have time in her normal day for this additional class, so she squeezes him in when most other professors are running after school activities or grading papers. She looks tired. She ran the lance training, skipped lunch to teach Felix’s sword lesson, and is now here with Sylvain. He almost wants to suggest they postpone, but he knows no other day will be any easier for her.

“Very good, Sylvain.” She remarks after he conjures a particularly powerful saggitae spell. 

“Your control is showing impressive progress. I noticed Felix is improving too. He said you’ve been tutoring him.”

“Tutoring.” Sylvain laughs. “We just study together. I don’t take charge or anything. We help each other out.”

“Well I’m glad you’re sharing your knowledge.”

They wrap up for the day and Sylvain heads over to the dining hall to enjoy a quiet, late, dinner. He reads over his reason homework and soaks a bread bun in his stew before taking a bite. Someone approaches and places a small wooden case on the table in front of him. He looks up to see Claude. The younger boy’s green eyes glint with intrigue. He unclamps the case and fold it out to reveal a game board. Sylvain recognises the squares and pieces.

“I’ve been told you know how to play.” Claude smiles.

Sylvain chews slowly.

“Farghus champion.” He states.

“Huh, interesting.” Claude sits down. “So you wanna play?”

“You heard I was champion and you still want to play?”

“Of course. That just makes me want to challenge you more.” He laughs.

They play one game. It takes a surprisingly long time and Sylvain is surprised when Claude beats him. He looks down at the board dominated with Claude’s pieces.

“You Alliance champion or something?”

“Or something.” Claude grins. He packs up his game and the two walk over to the dorms. Claude is Felix’s neighbour and notices that Sylvain seems to hesitate in front of his door, rather than continue to his own room.

“I’m uh... I’m gonna check in on Felix. I haven’t seen him today.” He tries to explain. Claude looks between Sylvain and the door.

“Uh huh.” Is all he mutters before slipping into his room. Sylvain wonders just how much he knows. 

Felix is tucked into his bed reading a book when he hears the knock on his door. He barely has a chance to sit up before Sylvain is letting himself in. He locks the door behind him.

“What are you doing here?” Felix asks. Sylvain is surprised to hear the confusion in his voice. 

“I missed you.” He laughs like it’s obvious. He plops himself on Felix’s bed and kisses his cheek. Felix seems to tense under his touch.

“Are you okay?” Sylvain asks. Felix squirms in the same way he has the previous two nights when Sylvain has pushed just a bit too far. 

“I’m... yeah. I’m okay.”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Sure.” But he doesn’t sound confident. Sylvain rubs Felix’s thigh through his blanket. He hopes it is a comforting gesture. He wants Felix to feel safe with him. He leans forward to kiss his cheek, his forehead, his lips. Felix softens a bit when their mouths connect. Sylvain licks at his lips and eventually coaxes him into a more relaxed state. Felix’s tongue pushes against his and he breathes deeply through his nose. His pale hands roam over Sylvain’s broad chest and come to rest on his shoulders. Sylvain hums in approval. He kisses a little more forcefully and Felix gasps against his lips. He pushes against the smaller man until Felix is lying on the bed underneath him. Sylvain continues to kiss him, but seeks a more comfortable angle. He swings a leg over to straddle Felix’s heavily blanketed waist. His chest presses Felix harder into the mattress.

“No!” Felix shoves him off. Sylvain falls into a seated position with a rumpled shirt and his hair a mess. Felix sits up as well. His bun sags to the side and his lips are swollen. He’s beautiful and Sylvain’s stomach pangs, but it is short lived. Felix draws his knees up and protectively pulls them into his chest. 

“I-! I’m not one of your conquests, Sylvain! You can’t use me like one of your girls.” He spits. There’s a tremor in his voice. 

“I won’t let you!”

Sylvain’s heart stops. The blood in his veins turns to ice. He relives every break up he’s every dished out and wonders if this is some kind of divine karma for his behaviour. He wants to be mad at Felix. Wants to ask him why on Earth he would accuse him of such a thing, but he knows it would be hypocritical. He has the reputation. He has the history. How many times had he tried to forget his own sadness and anger by seeking out the warmth of another? And now Felix was throwing it back in his face. Of course he would see this as nothing different, how could he? Sylvain had never explained himself or given him a reason to think he was special. 

Sylvain slowly stands. His eyes are unfocused as they stare at Felix’s bed sheets. He methodically traces over the lines and cross hatching of the threads.

“Is that what you think I’m doing?” His voice is hollow. 

Felix’s face twists into one of anguish. He combs his fingers through his hair once, twice, three times, before he can finally rest his hand on his knee.

“Well isn’t it?” He squeaks.

Sylvain does not realise he is crying until he sees a drop hit the sheets below him. It plops and spreads along the threads. He feels empty, too devastated and disgusted with himself to even protest. 

“I’m sorry.” The tears feel hot on his cheeks. He had not cried when Miklan died. He wondered if he even could anymore. Felix lifts his gaze at the sound of Sylvain’s shaky voice. His mouth drops open when he sees the boy standing above him, expressionless, but tears coming from him nevertheless. He gasps at the sight. He freezes under Sylvain’s lifeless gaze.

“I’m sorry. I won’t bother you anymore.”

His voice is remarkably calm and even. He turns towards Felix’s door and lets himself out. He only makes it four steps down the hallway before he feels his emotions come flooding back and he has to lean on the wall to stay upright. He struggles to breathe. 

“Syl,” Felix meekly calls out to him. “Sylvain!” He regains his strength. His bare feet thunder down the hallway after him. He watches Sylvain slump against the hall and he catches his hand. He tugs him around to face him. He claws for Sylvain’s collar and yanks him down into a bruising, wet, kiss. Sylvain looks stunned when Felix pulls away. His chest heaves with sobs that want to escape. 

“I want you to bother me! I always want you to bother me.” Felix cries. He keeps one of his hands tangled with Sylvain’s. He uses his other to wipe his nose with the back of his sleeve. It does not do much good.

“Sylvain, I’ve loved you since I was eight years old. I want you to be mine, so if this is just you wanting to play around...” A fresh wave of sobs crashes through Felix. “I’m not strong enough to handle tha-“

Sylvain does not let him finish. He pulls the smaller boy up off of his feet and kisses him senseless. Kisses him until his tears stop and the tremors wracking his body start to subside. A fire burns brightly in Sylvain’s chest and he’s not sure if he’ll ever be able to put it out. 

_He wants me. He wants me. He wants me. He wants me._

He repeats the realisation until it leaves him light headed and beaming. He sets Felix back down. He stops kissing him, but rests their foreheads together. He holds Felix’s face in his hands and rubs away his tears with his thumbs. Felix places his hands over Sylvain’s and closes his eyes.

“I chased all those girls because I thought there was no way in hell you would want me.” He confesses.

“But you were the one I lay awake at night yearning for, Felix.”

Felix draws in a sharp breath.

“Hey,”

A door creaks open next to them. Their heads snap at the sound and they watch as a blonde mop of hair pokes into the darkness. Dimitri takes in Sylvain and Felix’s odd body language.

“What’s going on here?”

“Nothing. Get lost.” Sylvain places his hand square on the centre of Dimitri’s face and shoves him back into his room. The prince gives an awkward little yelp as he stumbles back. Sylvain slams the door shut in front of him. Felix laughs. He can’t help himself.

“Stupid boar had to ruin the mood.” He whispers, but remarkably he does not sound too angry at Dimitri. Sylvain smiles and takes both of his hands in his. He rubs his thumbs over Felix’s knuckles.

“Felix, _I’m_ the one who decided to enrol in Garreg Mach late.” He whispers.

“I waited three years just so I could be here with you. So please, I’m never playing around when it comes to you.”

“Sylvain,” Felix sighs. He closes his eyes tightly and squeezes Sylvain’s hands until they hurt.

“If you even _look_ at someone else, I swear to the goddess, I will cut you down where you stand.” He hisses. His mouth pulls into a worried scowl. Sylvain hums with understanding. 

“As you should. I would definitely deserve it.” He steps in close. “But that won’t happen, because you’re too beautiful for me to look away.” He grins and kisses Felix’s cheek. Felix groans.

“God, that’s so cheesy. I’m being serious.”

“So am I!” Sylvain laughs. “You’re too pretty.”

“You’re terrible.”

“Yeah, but do you like it?”

Felix rolls his eyes. His stomach is fluttering and he can feel his lips wanting to pull into a smile.

“A little.”

Sylvain chuckles and gives him a chaste kiss on the lips. He pulls away with a self-satisfied grin. Felix sighs. He acts prickly, but he knows he won’t be able to let the other man go now. Not when he smiles like that and he continues to sing sweet compliments into Felix’s ear.

“C’mon then.” Felix tugs on his hand and pulls him back towards his room. Sylvain raises his eyebrows and makes a little “oh?” noise. 

“Don’t get any ideas, I just...” He pouts and chews the inside of his cheek. “Missed you too. And I’m tired.”

Felix opens his door and the two enter his room with a giddy kind of energy. They clamber into his bed and cling tightly to one another until they eventually drift off to sleep.

...

Felix wakes up first. Warm and secure in Sylvain’s arms, he manages to slither out of his grip and crawl out of the bed. He changes into his uniform and brushes his tangled hair back into a bun. It’s at this point that Sylvain finally stirs. He stretches and snatches Felix by the waist as he walks past. He attempts to pull him back into bed.

“Syl,” Felix huffs. Sylvain tugs him down and rolls on top of him. He kisses Felix, wondering how he got so lucky that _this_ would be his first meal of the day.

“Ugh, you taste awful.” Felix grimaces underneath him. “Don’t kiss me before you brush your teeth.”

Well it was still Felix after all.

Sylvain drops his head on his chest.

“I have to go train.”

“You don’t _have_ to go anywhere.” Sylvain mumbles against his sternum. Felix starts to roll him off.

“I can’t afford to slack off. I promised Ashe I would spar with him, he wants to see if his training has paid off.” He sits up and begins to tug his boots on. Sylvain also sits up and leans against his back. His nuzzles the nape of his neck in a sleepy haze. His stubble catches on Felix’s soft skin.

“I’ll see you later tonight, okay?”

“Alright. Don’t hurt Ashe.” Sylvain croaks. Felix chuckles. 

“I’ll try not to.” He steps out of the room, leaving Sylvain alone to fall back into the sheets and breathe deep the smell of their lingering sweat. 

Sylvain finally manages to roll out of bed and walks down to the dining hall for a late breakfast. He is accompanied by Mercedes and Hilda, who also seem to be just stumbling out of their rooms. Mercedes complains about staying up late to finish an assignment. Hilda just shrugs.

“I like sleeping.” is her only excuse.

They bump into Felix on the steps coming up from the fishing pond. He almost rushes past them without a second glance.

“Hey!” Sylvain calls out. Felix wheels on his heel. “You wanna get some food?”

“Ah, sorry. I’ve gotta get to the library quickly. Professor’s orders.” Felix half jogs backwards down the stairs.

“I’ll see you at dinner!” He calls up.

“Sure thing.” Sylvain waves. He turns to nudge Mercedes with his elbow. “Did you see that total hottie just now? Yeah that’s my boyfriend. No big deal. Did you see my boyfriend, Hilda?” 

He says loud enough for anyone else on the stairs to hear. Hilda groans and Mercedes giggles behind her hand. 

“God, are you going to be even _more_ obnoxious now?” Hilda whines.

“I think it’s cute.” Mercedes loops her arms through her friends’ and pulls them both into the dining hall.

Felix jogs past the fishing pond and greenhouse. He does not turn to go to the library, but instead heads for the next best thing: Linhardt’s room. He warily looks to his right and left before he knocks on the door. He has to knock twice before he hears some rustling from inside. Linhardt opens the door dressed in a robe and his hair is still a mess. He blinks at Felix in surprise.

“Felix? You’re a surprising visitor. What can I do for you?” He ties the belt of his robe around his waist.

“Uh, I’m looking for a … reference book and I thought you might have it?” Felix crosses his arms. “Or at least one similar?”

Linhardt steps to the side and gives a grand sweep of his arm, gesturing for Felix to enter. He obliges and Linhardt shuts the door behind him. The room is dark, with heavy blackout curtains drawn over the windows. The ground, desks, dressers, and even bed are covered in various books, tomes and scrolls. Felix can barely make out a small Linhardt shaped canyon in the debris on the bed. The room smells stuffy and aromatic, like sandalwood, old parchment and mushrooms. 

“Did the library tell you I had it?” Lin starts to thumb through his piles. Instinctively, he’s looking for anything sword or Farghus related. 

“No uh…” Felix swallows. His nerves finally seem to catch up to him. This had seemed a great idea this morning, but now he just wants to run.

“It’s uh… not the kind of thing our library would carry.” He bites the inside of his cheek. Linhardt suddenly stops. He stands up straight and places a hand on his hip. His eyes narrow with an intrigued little smile. 

“I have a lot of banned books, Felix. You’ll have to be more specific.”

“It’sasexthing.” Felix hisses.

“Oh!” Lin calmly makes his way over to a stack of books next to his bedside table. His voice is muffled from where he crouches on the floor.

“Reference you said?”

“Yes. Reference.” Felix looks up at the ceiling, hoping the goddess will see his pain and just smite him where he stands. 

“Here.” Lin returns with a blue hardcover book. It is surprisingly unassuming and Felix accepts it as it is held out to him. 

_Sons of Eros: A guide to anatomy and the safe homosexual experience_

“Thanks.” Felix sheepishly tucks it under his arm.

“I’m honestly pretty impressed that you’re doing some research. That’s very responsible of you. Most guys would be too embarrassed to read anything.” Lin smiles genuinely.

“I won’t say this isn’t embarrassing.” Felix mumbles.

“Still.” Lin shrugs. “Sylvain is very lucky.”

“I never said it was for Sylvain.” Felix bristles. Lin throws back his head and laughs.

“You didn’t have to.”

Felix sighs. He holds the book, cover side down, close to his chest.

“Thanks, Lin. I appreciate it.” He mumbles.

“Hey, anytime. It’s nice to have another member of the club.”

They both laugh at this. Even Felix smiles. It is nice to know he’s not completely alone on this campus.

“How many are there?”

“Oh, with you and Sylvain now?” Linhardt taps his chin in thought. “Like four definitely, but probably 6? 6.5?”

“Point 5?”

“Jury’s still out on Claude.” Linhardt’s tone is casual and teasing. Felix begins to relax his tense shoulders.

“You know… if you ever have any questions-“

“Absolutely not.” Felix bolts for the door. He’s nowhere near that comfortable yet. He can’t imagine saying anything out loud, let alone to this guy who is barely an acquaintance. 

“I’d be happy to explain anything!”

“Goodbye, Lindhardt!” Felix bolts from the room and sprints up the path towards his own dorm. Linhardt chuckles to himself and closes his door once more. He says a small prayer of thanks that his room is no where near the Farghus nobleman’s. 

…

Felix catches up with Sylvain and the rest of the Blue Lions for dinner. He wonders whether he should tell the others about his new relationship, but part of him finds the secret thrilling. He is also terrified of the follow up questions. God, what if Dimitri or Ingrid told his father? He is not ready for that yet. He and Sylvain both silently agree to not announce it to their childhood friends, but if they were to figure it out… well they are not exactly hiding it. Ingrid will likely hear find out soon, especially with the way Sylvain keeps his hand on Felix’s thigh throughout dinner. But Dimitri? Dimitri they could easily keep in the dark for the rest of the year. 

They finish their dinner and Annette offers to help the couple with their reason homework. They do not really need the help, but use the excuse to hang out with Annette and Mercedes for another couple of hours before bed. They head to the library and spread their books out on one of the group study tables. They chat about different spells, their varying proficiencies, and the best snacks to take on a battle assignment. Annette says cookies. Felix fights oddly passionately for jerky. Mercedes spends the entire session sending the two boys knowing grins.

“If you’ve got something to say, just say it. We’re not trying to actively hide it.” Sylvain murmurs next to her ear.

“Oh I can’t. I need to break the news to Annie in private.” She giggles.

“You think she’ll be sad?”  
“I worry she might swear for the first time in her life.” They both chuckle.

“What are you two doing? I don’t like when you get like that.” Felix glares at them from across the table. Annette is leaning over his shoulder to point out a mistake in his homework.

“Oh nothing, Felix. Do you not trust me?” Mercedes looks affronted.

“I worry that weasel man has corrupted you.” 

“Weasel man?!” Sylvain’s voice breaks. 

Lysithea crashes their study session after another hour and the two boys decide it is time to leave. They gather up their completed homework and walk through the gardens to their dorm rooms. An electric anticipation begins to course through them as Felix’s room comes into sight. This is where Sylvain would usually kiss-and-go, but now… _now…_ what would they do now?

“Do you wanna come in?”

“YES.” Sylvain answers far too quickly and eagerly. Felix leads the way and he skips in after him. He double checks the lock on the door behind him before he drops his books and whisks Felix into his arms. A gentle rumble of Felix’s laughter vibrates through his chest. They kiss and Sylvain hoists Felix off of the ground easily. He carries him the last few steps across the floor, before they both tumble into bed.

Knowing how Felix feels about him has left Sylvain completely uninhibited. He is ravenous as he devours Felix’s mouth and drags his teeth along his throat. He bites and sucks along his jaw until he leaves a dusky pink mark. Felix squirms underneath him. He tugs and combs his fingers through Sylvain’s hair, no longer ashamed of the breathy ‘ah’s that Sylvain pulls from him. Sylvain swings his leg over his lap and Felix doesn’t run away. Instead he pulls Sylvain up by his collar to attack his mouth once more, and pushes up with his hips.

Sylvain groans loudly into his mouth. The feeling of Felix’s hard erection grinding against his leaves him light headed and on the cusp of falling over the edge. He has to pull his lips away for just a moment to breathe. Felix is merciless. He keens at the lack of contact and grinds their hips together repeatedly. Sylvain is experienced, but this feels like something entirely new. Some part of him understands that _he_ is causing this reaction in Felix, and that leaves him breathless and greedy to have more. 

He gains control of his dizziness and bends down to kiss Felix again. He slides his hands underneath Felix’s shirt, appreciating the feeling of his warm, smooth skin. Lean, soft, and his to mark. He rubs his thumbs over Felix’s chest and brushes over his nipples. Felix gasps.

“Ah! Sylvain?”

“Yeah?” Sylvain’s voice is low and rough. It sends a fresh pang straight to Felix’s cock.

“Do you…” He licks his lips and dares to open his eyes. Sylvain stares down at him. His pupils are blown wide so that his caramel coloured eyes now look almost black. Felix’s mouth fills with saliva.

“Do you wanna… do _more_ than just kiss?” He asks.

Sylvain’s eyes widen. His mouth pulls into a smile that is equal parts wicked and elated. He sits up, giving Felix more space to breathe.

“More like what?” He smirks.

“You know what I mean.” Felix raises onto his elbows. He’s blushing down to his chest.

“I’m afraid I don’t, Felix. You’re going to have to say.” Sylvain slides off of his lap to lie on the pillow next him. Felix glares venomously. 

“I can show you.” His fingers reach for the buttons of Sylvain’s pants. Sylvain bats them away.

“Ah ah!” He shakes his head. “Consent is important.” He pulls Felix flush against his chest and holds tightly to his waist. He leans his head down to kiss and bite along Felix’s jaw. Felix closes his eyes and sighs. He hikes his leg over Sylvain’s hip and presses close, until their crotches are brought together again. Sylvain grinds against him and the friction is heavenly.

“So tell me, Felix. What do you want to do?” Sylvain purrs against his throat. Felix, now thoroughly blissed out and desperate, says what is on the tip of his tongue.

“I wanna suck you off.” He sighs. “I want you to cum down my throat.”

“Fuck.” Sylvain’s hold goes limp at the confession. He wills himself to not mess up his pants then and there. Felix takes the opportunity to push him onto his back and climb on top of him. He begins to unbutton Sylvain’s shirt and explore his bare chest with his hands. He can feel Sylvain’s erection straining against his ass.

“Is that okay?” Felix asks, more timid this time. Sylvain laughs. He lets his head fall back and stares at the boy above him. Felix’s hair is a mess, just barely hanging on to his hair tie, and his vest has been ripped open at the top two buttons. A bruise is beginning to bloom on his collarbone. 

“Do you know how?” He chuckles.

“What do you mean do I know how?” Felix hisses. “Dick in mouth! How hard can it be?!”

“Okay, okay, okay.” Sylvain laughs. He sighs and rubs a hand over Felix’s thigh. 

“Yeah it’s fine with me. Whatever you want, Fe.”

Felix nods. He leans over and gets to work kissing Sylvain’s chest. He likes finding the occasional freckle and kissing it gently, wondering how many more small surprises Sylvain’s skin will bring. There is a scar on his hip, and another on his left ribs. Felix kisses all of these as he creeps lower. He hooks his fingers under the waistband of his pants and pulls them down, inch by inch, until a small peak of pubic hair becomes visible. Felix stops there. He palms Sylvain through his pants and kisses the sharp v of his hips, leading down to the swell of his groin. His hot breath ghosts over it. Sylvain curls and flexes his toes with anticipation. He grips the sheets next to him. He does not want to pressure Felix into anything, but god…. he needs some kind of release.

“How big are you?”

“Just unbutton my pants and you’ll find out.”

“Mmmm, maybe I want to wait longer.”

“Holy shit, Felix.” Sylvain groans. How could a virgin be this cruel? 

Felix unties his hair. Sylvain watches the raven strands fall and he licks his lips. He wants to touch it. Felix just might give him the chance.

He bends down and finally pops off the button of Sylvain’s pants. Sylvain immediately sighs with relief, but he wants more. Felix sees his leaking tip, now free to poke out of the top of his underwear. Precum pools on his stomach. Felix looks at the glistening head, pink and swollen, and decides he needs to feel the weight of it on his lips. He tugs Sylvain’s underwear down and he spills out of it. Felix and Sylvain sigh in unison.

Felix licks a teasing stripe up the shaft and Sylvain sees stars. The contrast of hot tongue to cold breeze leaves him quivering. Felix continues his ministrations of pumping, kissing and licking him experimentally, trying to figure out what Sylvain likes best. He lays his tongue flat against the vein and traces it up. Sylvain dares to look down, but immediately has to look away. The sight of his leaking cock pressed against Felix’s tongue is too obscene, too fantastic in all the best ways. His pale pink lips held wide open, and his dark hair sticking to the sweat of his forehead.

“You don’t wanna watch?” Felix teases.

“I can’t. I’ll cum immediately.” Sylvain laughs. 

“You should watch this next part. I think you’ll like it.” He laughs breathily. Sylvain lifts up just a fraction. It’s enough to see the head of his cock pass between Felix’s lips. Felix makes direct eye contact as he pushes himself as far down as he can, until his eyes water and his throat burns.

“Shit.” Sylvain throws his arm over his eyes. It’s too overwhelming to feel the warm wetness of Felix’s mouth and watch his thin lips hungrily slurp him up. Felix laughs and it sends tremors down his shaft.

“Ah! Don’t laugh at me, even that feels good.” Sylvain chuckles, but his teasing is short lived. His breath starts to quicken as Felix picks up his pace. He’s determined and eager to please, swirling his tongue around Sylvain’s sensitive head and taking him down until he can feel the flutter of his throat. Sylvain grits his teeth and uses all of his energy to not thrust into the warm cavern of Felix’s soft mouth. Felix flicks up his gaze to see how tightly Sylvain grips the sheets. His fingers are twisted in the fabric and his knuckles are starting to turn white. Felix reaches up. He takes Sylvain’s hand and guides it to rest on the back of his head.

“Ah, Fe, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Sylvain pants. He knows he’s a weak man.

“I’ll tap if it’s too much.” Felix’s voice is hoarse. He squeezes Sylvain’s hand, before he slides back over his cock, now wet with spit and dribbling generously.

Sylvain swallows. He tangles his fingers in Felix’s hair, as he’s been given permission to do. He gives his hair an experimental pull. Felix only hums appreciatively.

“God,” Sylvain pants. “Fe, you’re gonna ruin me.”

When Felix next slides down, Sylvain holds him there for a little bit longer, relishing the feeling of being deep in Felix’s mouth. He does this a couple more times, keeping Felix down longer and longer. He waits for a tap, but none come. He’s close. Agonisingly close. He forgets himself and bucks up. Felix accepts it willingly.

“Shit, Fe, fuck, can I-?” He places both of his hands on the back of Felix’s head and holds him down. His grips his hair tight and fucks his mouth. Felix braces himself on his elbows. Spit dribbles onto the base of Sylvain’s cock as he accepts it to the hilt over and over again. His throat burns, but the throbbing in his own dick only grows. There’s something thrilling and pleasurable about having Sylvain hold and use him exactly how he wants. He keeps his jaw slack for him, happy for Sylvain to fuck his mouth as deep as he can. 

“Fe! Fuck, I-“ Sylvain babbles incomprehensibly as all the muscles seize in his abdomen. He keeps Felix firmly pushed down on his cock. He feels Felix’s tongue stroke up his shaft and he cums into his mouth. It pools on his tongue and Felix swallows. Sylvain’s thighs come up to press around Felix’s ears and he lightly thrusts between his lips to ride out his aftershocks.

Felix finally taps. Sylvain releases him immediately. He comes up, a gasping, coughing mess, drooling spit and cum onto Sylvain’s stomach. Sylvain doesn’t care. He tugs him up to his chest and kisses him on the mouth. He can taste himself on his tongue. He wishes he did not like it as much as he does. He rolls them over. Felix’s erection presses firmly against his stomach.

“Fe,” Sylvain breathes. Felix wraps his arms around Sylvain’s neck. “Let me take care of you. I wanna see you lose yourself to me.”

Felix can only whine as Sylvain slips both of their shirts off. He then unbuttons Felix’s pants and peels them off of his slender legs, leaving him naked and shivering underneath him.

“So beautiful, Felix. You’re so pretty.” Sylvain whispers the praises into Felix’s ear as he begins to stroke his cock. Felix bits his lip. He bends his knees and tries to thrust into Sylvain’s hands.

“Do you need more?” Sylvain asks.

“Yeah.” Felix gasps.

“What do you want?”

“Want you to touch me.”

“I am touching you.” Sylvain breathily chuckles.

“Lower.”

Felix’s knees fall open.

_Oh._

Sylvain pauses his ministrations. His eyes dart to Felix’s bedside table.

“Do you have uh…. Any oil or anything?”

Felix opens his eyes. 

“I thought you would.” He lifts onto his elbows. His dark hair spills over his shoulders and his small, dusky nipples are pert in the cool air. The lines of his body are smooth and graceful, falling into the valleys of his narrow waist, and climbing with the roundness of his ass and thighs. He is sensuous and ethereal, resembling a saint carved out of marble. Sylvain wants to worship at his feet every night.

“No, uh- I don’t use it a lot. I ran out a while ago.”

“Oh.” Felix slumps onto the pillow. “That’s ok, we can-“

“No I think I can find some.” Sylvain hops off the bed and tucks himself back in his underwear.

“What are you-?!” Felix sits up with panic in his eyes.

“I’m gonna get some. It’ll take me two seconds.” He buttons his pants, but doesn’t bother with a shirt.

“Just stay here. I’ll be back.”

“Sylvain, NO!” Felix hisses, but it’s to no avail. Sylvain jogs out of the room. Felix can only look on in horror.

Sylvain only goes down to the next room. He raps on Claude’s door with the back of his knuckles three times in quick succession. It’s late, but he’s sure Claude is the kind of person to stay up reading. His instinct proves to be true. Claude answers the door in just his yellow shirt and a pair of loose pants. Comfortable, but he’s not even in pyjamas yet. 

Claude’s eyes widen. His eyes sweep over Sylvain’s body. His lack of shirt, his rumpled hair, a wet glistening around his lower abdomen. 

“Whaaaaaat is thiiiis?” Claude asks.

Sylvain knows what he looks like. He knows the kind of fucked out expression he must be wearing, but he hopes that will only make Claude more sympathetic to his cause.

“Hey, I need a favour.” He whispers. Claude’s eyes dart to his crotch.

“God, Sylvain, I am so scared of what you’re going to ask for.”

“It’s fine. Do you have any oil I can borrow?”

“Oil? For what?”

“For frying sweet buns. WHAT DO YOU MEAN ‘FOR WHAT?’” Sylvain points to his nakedness in exasperation.

“Alright! Shush!” Claude tries to quieten him. “Yeah I do, hang on.” He disappears into the darkness of his room and emerges with a small glass bottle. The oil in it is almost completely colourless, and it sticks thickly to the glass walls as the vial is turned over.

“Here.” Claude hands it over.

“Thanks.”

“But Sylvain…” Claude gives the taller man a warning glare. “If you and Felix wake me up with any sort of yowling, I _will_ bring Teach up here.”

“You’d narc on me?” Sylvain huffs.

“Those are my conditions.” Claude shrugs. “Have fun.” He closes his door with a smirk. 

Sylvain sprints back into Felix’s room. He holds the vial victoriously above his head.

“Jesus!” Felix attempts to hold a pillow in front of his naked body when Sylvain throws the door open. 

“Can you _knock?_ ”

“No time for that.” He marches over to the bed like a man on a mission. He pushes Felix down onto the sheets and climbs over him. He kisses him slowly, savouring the hums of appreciation that Felix gives him. He reaches his hand down and draws Felix back up to his full hardness, until he is once again panting into his mouth and thrusting into Sylvain’s hand. His legs fall open and he whines.

“Have you touched yourself before?” Sylvain coats his fingers in the oil. He’s sure to get up to his knuckles. It drips onto the sheets below. 

“A little. Just a finger.” Felix pants. Sylvain rubs between his cheeks and he keens at the feeling. His mouth falls open.

“Okay. I’ll take it slow, alright?”

“Yeah.”

Sylvain circles his entrance. He presses with his middle finger and is surprised when it passes in with general ease. Felix is relaxed and content underneath him.

“You’re doing very well. You’re very relaxed.” 

“Should I not be?”

“No.” Sylvain chuckles. “It’s just nice you trust me.”

“Of course.”

Sylvain thrusts one finger in and out a number of times before adding a second. Felix groans at the discomfort, happy to be spread wider. He clenches around Sylvain’s fingers.

“Feels good.” He pants.

“You take me so well, Fe.” Sylvain thrusts in time with his other hand still stroking his cock. “Like your body was made for me to fuck you.”

Felix loudly moans at that. He presses down onto Sylvain’s fingers. He crooks them to press against Felix’s hot walls and he makes contact with his prostate. Felix’s back arches off the mattress and he moans louder. Sylvain briefly worries about Claude, but decides a months worth of detention would be a measly payment to hear Felix make that sound again.

“Do you like that?”

“Shit, Sylvain. I want you so bad.” He mumbles. Sylvain adds a third finger.

“Yes! Ah! Yeah!” Felix’s voice comes out high pitched and breathy. “Please put it in. Please fuck me.”

“Fe,” Sylvain chuckles. “I don’t know what you think my recovery period is like, but you gotta give me at least 15 minutes.”

Felix nods with understanding, but that doesn’t stop him from desperately trying to take Sylvain’s fingers deeper into himself. Sylvain watches his fingers move in and out. He wants to give Felix a new experience, something that will make him see stars and cry out his name.

“Here, maybe this will do.” Sylvain removes his fingers. He uses both of his arms to pick up Felix’s legs and place them over his shoulders, angling his ass up higher.

“What are you-?”

But Felix is cut off as a high pitched moan erupts from his mouth. Sylvain slips two fingers back inside, to pull and open up his entrance, before his brings face down. He thrusts his tongue inside. 

Felix cums immediately.

His hole clenches around Sylvain’s tongue, still probing into him, as his cock spurts onto his chest. His eyes roll back in his head with the force of it. It splashes and some lands on his chin. Sylvain continues to stroke him through it, but lays his hips back down with a satisfied smile. Felix’s chest heaves and his cock still twitches and dribbles. Sylvain crawls over him and leans down.

“Absolutely not.” Felix places his hand over Sylvain’s mouth, mere inches away from his own. He’s sated and dizzy, but not drunk enough to let Sylvain kiss him.

“Go wash your mouth out then try again.” He breathes.

“Alright, alright.”

Sylvain goes over to a small wash basin and rinses his mouth with a high alcohol solution. He even brushes his teeth with his toothbrush he had brought over the night before. He wets a rag with warm water.

“Better?” He returns to Felix’s side now minty fresh.

“Hmmm, better.” Felix tugs him into bed and kisses him languidly. Sylvain takes the warm rag and wipes up the mess on his chest, stomach, and between his thighs. Felix hums happily at the consideration. His fingers reach out for Sylvain’s pants.

“You’re wearing too many clothes.”

“Alright, alright.” Sylvain wriggles out of his pants and kicks them onto the floor. Felix drops himself across his naked body and pulls the blanket over them. Sylvain cards his fingers through his hair. He closes his eyes and listens to the sound of Felix’s breathing. 

“I’ve thought about that… a lot.” Felix mumbles. Sylvain chuckles underneath him.

“Me too.” He smiles.

“I’ll be good to go in another 15.”

Sylvain laughs a little louder.

“Shouldn’t we sleep?”

“Not when we’ve got so much catching up to do.” Felix kisses his chest. His wiggles up higher until he can kiss Sylvain’s neck. Sylvain sighs and exposes more of his skin. Felix accepts the invitation happily. He hikes his thigh over Sylvain’s waist. Sylvain greedily strokes his fingers up and down the milky flesh.

“Alright, you twisted my arm. Let me know when you’re ready.” He sighs. Felix laughs and kisses his cheek.

…

Sylvain saunters into the dining hall for breakfast with unkempt hair and deep bags around his eyes. His shirt is unbuttoned even lower than usual, exposing the number of hickies around his neck and chest. He sits across from Dorothea with a satisfied smile. She looks over his body and chuckles.

“I was wondering why Felix looked so ill this morning. I assumed he had been up all night studying for an exam or something.” She clicks her tongue. “I guess he’ll be getting an A in biology this semester.”

“Oh he’ll pass with flying marks.” Sylvain takes a large bite of his croissant. He feels like death, from lack of sleep and over exertion, but he cannot resist peacocking around the monastery at least a little bit. He does have classes today after all.

“Sylvain, and I mean this with all the love in my heart, you have never looked sluttier.”

“Thank you.”

“That’s not a compliment.” Dorothea chuckles. “Don’t you think you should cover up a little bit? Wear a scarf or something?”

“And hide these badges of honour?” Sylvain looks scandalised. “Perish the thought. I _earned_ these!”

They laugh and settle into a comfortable silence. Dorothea goes back to reading her book, some romance novel about pirates wearing extremely tight pants, and Sylvain closes his eyes to doze for a moment. He slowly munches on his breakfast and takes a large gulp of coffee. The caffeine cannot flood his veins fast enough. He considers crawling back into bed and skipping his lessons for the day, when Felix appears at the entry to the dining hall. He looks just as haggard, though more put together. His skin is pale and sags off of his high cheekbones. He orders himself a coffee and downs it in three gulps. He orders another, before he stumbles past the long tables.

He spies Sylvain. He smiles and walks closer, but as he approaches his smile turns into a scowl of horror. He marches faster. 

“What are you doing?!” He hisses. He grabs Sylvain by his collar and closes it over his chest. “Can you stop being so shameless for five minutes!?”

His fingers scramble to button his shirt up as high as it will go. Sylvain resists with a bored expression.

“You can do all my buttons you want, but it won’t be high enough to cover the ones on my neck.”

Felix sees that Sylvain is telling the truth. He huffs and lets go of his shirt. He crosses his arms.

“Get a scarf or something then.”

“Why are you acting like this is my fault? _You’re_ the one who couldn’t control himself.” 

Felix stiffens. Colour returns to his face and he glows beet red. His eyes nervously turn to take in Dorothea. She stares back at him, not giving him the relief of looking away and pretending she didn’t hear. Felix clenches his hands into fists. Robotically, he turns and marches to the exit.

“Fe! Fe! Wait!” Sylvain calls after him.

“Sorry, gotta go. I’ll see you later?” He nods at Dorothea. She waves him off. He shoves the entire rest of his croissant in his face. 

“Babe! Babe wait up! I’m sorry!” Sylvain manages to catch up to Felix and swings his arm over his shoulders.

Dorothea does see them later that day, but she doubts they will remember seeing her. She and Petra stumble across them in the library, huddled against each other and passed out in a corner. Their books lay open, sprawled across their laps. Sylvain’s quill hangs loosely from his fingers. He snores. Felix is curled up into his side, lightly drooling onto his white shirt. 

“Should we be waking them?” Petra whispers.

Dorothea suspects that even a battle cannon would not be able to wake them.

“Nah,” She shakes her head. “They’re exhausted, and besides…” She shrugs and turns to Petra with a smirk.

“They _are_ cute in an annoying way.”

Sylvain and Felix do not wake until it is dark outside and their stomachs are grumbling.

“So we might have overdone it last night.”

“You think?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you had fun! I think about these boys a lot. Don't even get me staaaaarted on post time-skip Sylvix where they've been separated for almost 5 years.
> 
> If you like fire emblem stuff I post/draw a fair bit on my various social medias  
> twitter: @India_draws  
> instagram:@irrevocably-delicious  
> Tumblr: @irrevocably-voltron

**Author's Note:**

> Sylvain is stupid.


End file.
